The Ripple Effect
by aja
Summary: Ch. 9 up now! The madman is laid to rest, and so then are all the pitfalls of the past...until the executrices of his estate find startling evidence that could shatter the Benton sisters.
1. Date With The Night

_Disclaimer: All characters are property of Hasbro/ Sony Wonder, 1985 - 2005. All Rights Reserved._

---

**Jerrica**

"Pizzazz, come on!" the sweet, slightly asinine voice pleaded. "We're on in five minutes and here you are, still debating over which kind of fishnet stockings to wear! Our fans are waiting!"

"Screw the fans!" Pizzazz retorted. "After all, true talent can't be rushed."

We could already hear the arguing over the diminishing roar of the crowd as the five of us entered the backstage area, fresh from our last encore of the night. Shana and I rolled our eyes at one another. This had been happening far too frequently the past couple of gigs.

"You want them to wait? Fine! You deal with their wrath, then!"

Stormer banged her way out of the Misfits' dressing room, slamming the door on the mocking laughter behind her. Muttering something under her breath, she yanked off her black jacket and hurled it to the floor with a loud curse.

"Tough day at the mines, Mar?" Kimber cracked, and Stormer blew a strand of blue hair away from her face in response.

"She's impossible!" Stormer cried, stating the obvious. "I don't know what to do!"

I walked over to the mini fridge, offering the keyboardist a bottle of water. "Well, we certainly know how you feel. I wish I could tell you something a little more reassuring, but I think we all knew this was coming from day one."

Stormer grunted, taking a swig. "Yeah, I know. But she's always at least been ready to hit the stage on time." Her eyes drifted to Aja's acoustic guitar, then met Kimber's.

"I've got an idea," she said, reaching over to snatch the guitar and then Kimber's hand. Both Aja and Kimber cried out indignantly.

"You said you wanted to perform together again? Well, here's our chance!" Stormer told Kimber as she almost literally dragged her down the hall, and all of us ran after them.

"Hit the lights!" She yelled to Rio as we passed, stomping up the stairs and onto the stage.

"What are you doing?" He cried after them, prompting a glare from Stormer. "Just do it!" She ordered, sounding more like Pizzazz than anything else. Rio cast me a startled glance, and I shrugged at him. He sighed, flicking the switches and telling the roadies to lift the curtain.

"_Buenos Nochas, Mexico_!" Stormer greeted the clamoring audience in flawless Spanish. "We've got a special treat for you tonight," she added as one of the roadies ran up to them, with two stools and another acoustic guitar in tow.

She and Kimber smiled at each other, strumming the first bars of "I'm Okay". We watched and listened in awe as the two of them captivated the entire arena.

"There you are, Carmen!" A warm, vaguely familiar male voice suddenly called out from behind us. Raya spun around, her brown eyes widening when they landed upon Luis Renaldo, who laughed as she ran into his open arms.

"Luis!" Raya exclaimed, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "I can't believe - how did you find me?"

Luis proudly dangled a backstage pass that hung around his neck. "I bought my ticket as soon as I heard you were coming back. Your set was fantastic. Flawlessly beautiful."

A deep blush colored her cheeks, and Raya tried to look away from his piercing eyes. "Carmen, I'd love for you to join me for dinner, in my favorite cantina. There's so much we have to catch up on."

Raya paused, casting us a glance of concern. "I don't know," she breathed finally. "I mean, would it be okay with you guys? If I leave?"

I winked at her. "Of course it's okay. We've finished for the night, you go ahead." Raya's blush deepened, maybe hoping I'd have rejected her request. Luis kissed her hand.

"Please, darling." He implored, his voice a silky plea. "I've been waiting so long."

Raya bit her lip, which only seemed to entice the man. She barely had to nod at him before he whisked her away, leading her down the hall by the small of her back for what promised to be a romantic night on the town.

"I'll meet you back at the hotel!" Our bewildered drummer called over her shoulder, giving a little wave. Shana, Aja and I waved back, moved by Luis's charm.

"I can't say I blame her," Shana mused, watching as the couple dissappeared around a corner. "I'm a one-man woman, but if he asked me like that, I don't think I could say no."

Aja and I dissolved into giggles, just in time for Kimber and Stormer's return from their impromptu set. The two looked at each other, perplexed.

"What's so funny?" Kimber asked innocently, only making us laugh harder. "What did we miss?"

---

**Riot**

"Engaged!"

I tossed aside the black velvet blankets and leapt from the bed, caring not about my lack of clothing. "When the hell did they get engaged!"

Minx chuckled, enjoying my reaction immensely. "Are you going to put some pants on, Riot, or is this a rather clumsy attempt at seduction?"

My eyes narrowed. "I'm quite serious, Ingrid. I want to know how this could have happened. They should have split up by now!"

"Well, they obviously didn't," Minx chirped, perching her lithe body on the edge of my bed. "We left their party just in time to miss the reconciliation. It's all over the news."

"I see," I said, swallowing a curse as I paced about the penthouse. "I had hoped things would not come to this, but it seems I am left with no other choice."

Retreating behind the new dressing screen I had recently imported from Tokyo, I proceeded to pull on my skintight leather trousers, tossing the boxers over the top of the screen. "You and Rapture can handle things on your own by now, I assume?"

There was a pause. "Yes," she replied warily. "Rory, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting _dressed_, my dear," I spat, tugging my mesh leotard over my head. "I can't very well start a riot by going in public naked, now, can I?"

"No, I mean what are you _doing_?" Minx insisted, coming around the curtain. "I thought you'd gotten over this by now."

I sighed, wondering why I constantly found myself explaining things that should be painfully obvious to the world, let alone her. "Minx, surely you understand by now that I simply cannot allow this to happen. I cannot let the love of my life merely slip through my fingers."

"Riot, Copenhagen won't wait," Minx reminded me gently. "It's out of your hands. Let it go."

I barely heard a word she spoke, tuning out my surroundings as I dialed the airline, determined to be on the next flight out to Los Angeles.


	2. Forever For Her Is Over For Me

_**Disclaimer: All characters are property of Hasbro/ Sony Wonder. All Rights Reserved. This chapter contains some somewhat mature themes (as most of my recent work seems to be doing). Discretion, but not aversion, is advised.**_

---

**Riot**

I could not keep from smiling as I sped along the 405 freeway, my brand new silver Corvette gleaming, diamond like, from the glare of the midday sun. Thanks to the information disclosed by a few exclusive sources close to the Holograms, I was on my way to California Studios, where Jerrica and her band were in L.A. temporarily to shoot the video for their second single, a driving rock ditty ironically titled "Nothing's Gonna Change". The song blared through the speakers as I drove, in fact, a perfect accompaniment to my perfect plan.

Oh, Minx and Rapture had been quite cross with me at first, for cancelling our European tour only to come back to L.A. and chase after what they perceived to be a hopelessly lost cause. But I'd insisted it was for their benefit as well, explaining that by the time I had Jem back in my arms again, it would be effortless for me to convince her to sign over half of her very profitable company, giving us our footing back in the industry, contract and all.

In the meantime, while the Holograms were off on their North American tour with the Misfits the past few months, I had taken it upon myself to secure the Stingers an exclusive deal with Le Klub Kool as the club's house band. It had proved to be a clever decision; instead of half filled arenas, we played to sold out intimate audiences every night. As our financial status replenished itself, so did my confidence. Although, let's be honest, had it ever really required a boost in the first place?

Gliding up to the front gates, I paused only a second to flash my all-access pass at the suspicious security guard, who waved me through with a rather arrogant reluctance. Amazing what the secretaries of studio bigwigs can do for you, I thought smugly, if you charmed them enough.

Once safely parked in a secluded area of the lot, I made my way inside the soundstage, every step deliberately soft and silent as I passed through the shadows. Only Jerrica, Sean Harrison, and my greatest obstacle, Rio, were being directed by Video Montgomery at the moment. I nodded to myself, appreciative that the fates had contained all the other obstacles in their respective trailers, for now.

"Okay, ready on the set?" Someone called out, a man I recognized as Anthony Julian. Jerrica smiled from her chair, fidgeting adorably in a pair of faux handcuffs that bound her wrists behind her.

"Ready, Anthony!" She replied cheerfully. Rio, who was crouched in position behind a thin plaster wall, smiled at her, making me feel rather ill. Jerrica smiled back, then bestowed one upon her co-star Harrison, who loomed over her in a mock threatening stance.

"And...action!" Video shouted. "Roll playback!"

The song that had been playing on repeat in my Corvette now thundered through the studio, as Jerrica and Sean played out a carefully choreographed scene of struggle set to the music. She leapt from the chair, shaking her hands free of the shackles, and pretended to knee her captor in the groin. His prop gun fell to the floor just as Rio the hero sprang at him, and I realized I was watching a reenactment of her ordeal a short time ago. Brilliant, I mused, to use one's pain as fodder for their art. Gods knew I loved a woman with beauty _and_ brains.

While everyone was distracted with the unfolding drama, I stealthily stepped out of the shadows, just enough for my prey to notice my presence. Jerrica's big blue eyes met mine, and she froze in what some would call horror, but I merely saw it as repressed attraction. The music continued to blare, but the action stalled, ruining the shot.

"Cut!" Video barked, visibly irritated. "What was that!" All eyes turned towards me.

"Riot!" Jerrica stammered as I made myself conspicious. At that very moment, all four Holograms decided to spill out of a nearby trailer, prompting in me a momentary spark of annoyance. The blue tressed guitarist, in particular, stared at me with blatant resentment, but I reassured myself that it did not matter. I could easily manipulate the situation, no matter what challenges were presented.

"What are you doing here?" Jerrica was demanding, as were Rio and the meddling guitarist. I laughed gently, lifting my hands in surrender.

"Forgive me, my dear, for interrupting your work," I said to Jerrica, with a respectful nod to Video, "but I heard of your happy news, and I wanted to come by to congratulate you personally."

"From Copenhagen?" Rio countered, his eyes stormy. Jerrica held up a hand, a silent plea for peace, and his frown deepened. She handed the cuffs to a bewildered Harrison and stepped carefully down the stairs, striding towards me. I allowed myself to be led by the sleeve into the shadows.

"Okay, now that you're not performing for an audience anymore, I'd like to know your _real_ reasons for coming here." She stated, and I laughed again, finding her resistance charming. I took her hand, softly clasping it between my own.

"Jerrica, I have no alterior motives," I lied, looking directly into those gorgeous eyes, deep, inquisitive sapphire pools. "In fact, to show just how comfortable I am with this union, the Stingers would love to be the band to play at your matrimonial, if you and Rio would be so inclined."

Jerrica bit her lip, her brow creased with indecision, and cast a backwards glance at her glowering fiancee. "Riot, I appreciate the offer, but I've already confirmed Aja's boyfriend's band, The Bluebloods."

I nodded, kissing her hand. "If you insist upon that, fine. But at least assure me, Jerrica, that you will give my offer a fair chance."

Jerrica frowned, pulling her hand away from mine. "I'll get back to you on that." She said flatly, retreating to her entourage of friends, colleagues, and admirers. I watched Rio take her aside, and she whispered something to him just as I turned to leave.

"Is he insane?" I heard him exclaim as I dissappeared behind a wall, pausing to hear the rest of the conversation. "Does he really think we'll let his band play at our wedding!"

Jerrica shushed him. "Rio, relax. Don't worry about it. Everything's fine," She assured the young man, and I pictured her laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It was just a matter of friendship." From the sound of her voice, though, it was clear that she was not as sure as her words attempted to convey.

Rio said nothing more, and their conversation was interrupted by a plea from Anthony to return to work, but I was more than satisfied. Already anticipating the next phase of the hunt, I continued on my way.

---

**Jerrica**

The insistent bleat of the digital alarm triggered me to slap it into silence, then squint at the time. Groaning in exhaustion, I rolled out of the unfamiliar hotel bed, taking care not to disturb the all too familiar man sleeping peacefully beside me. He needed it, after driving our tour bus all night so we could reach Las Vegas in time for our next concert.

Quietly, I backed out of the darkened hotel room, intending to sneak in an early morning swim before the usual manic pre-concert rush, and preferably without the bodyguards Rio had all but forced me to hire in the wake of Eric. Softly clicking the door shut and locking it behind me, I turned to leave, and literally walked right into a very startled Kimber. Both of us yelped, and couldn't help but laugh at ourselves.

"Jerrica, I know you're stressed and all, but it wouldn't kill you to watch where you're going."

"Well, it's not like I was expecting to see you awake this early, let alone upright and out of your room," I chuckled, bending to pick up the towel I'd dropped in surprise, and then noticed she was in her bikini. "What _are_ you doing up, anyway?"

Kimber shrugged. "I didn't sleep last night, too wired from the bus ride. I thought I'd go for a swim while everyone was still asleep." She grinned. "Looks like you had the same idea."

"Great minds think alike," I said as both of us started for the elevator.

"So have you and Rio set a date yet?" Kimber chirped, and I smiled. "Actually, we're going to do it as soon as our tour ends. He says he can't stand to wait through months of endless planning."

"Knowing you, he's got a point," She cracked.

The doors swished open on the bottom level, revealing an extremely inviting indoor pool. We had the place to ourselves, and used it to our fullest advantage. After more than a few invigorating laps, both of us reclined by the stairs, floating just under the water.

"Rio's been in touch with Danielle," I said to my sister breathlessly. "She wants us to hold it on her yacht. Her captain is certified by the state, and he can do the ceremony for us."

"Outrageous," she cooed, pushing herself away a little to float on the surface. "How romantic, a wedding at sea."

I touched my right ear absently, stroking the fresh scar while thinking about Synergy's place in my wedding plans. "I hope this heals soon," I said, "so that I can use holograms again. I want Synergy to project my dress."

"Saves on the cost of fabric," Kimber noted, perking her red head up and treading water until she reached the stairs. "Let's just hope that hairsprayed slimeball Riot doesn't try anything funny."

I glanced in her direction. "What do you mean?"

Kimber rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm getting pruny. Let's go get dressed and grab a bite to eat." I followed her out of the pool, close at her flip-flop clad heels.

"Kimber, honestly," I insisted, stepping into the lift again. "You don't really think he's up to something, do you? Come on, Riot's no Samaritan, but he's done good things. He helped BaNee out - "

"Only because Jem asked him to." Kimber interrupted.

"And he took the time to warn me about Eric," I continued. "He even volunteered to play at our wedding. That's why he came to our set yesterday."

"Uh huh. That doesn't exactly put my mind at ease, Jerrica," she said as we stepped off the elevator. "I'd keep an eye out, if I were you."

"Oh, Kimber, Riot's harmless." I insisted, wrapping my towel around my waist. "There's absolutely nothing to worry about."

We continued down the hall, still trading comments back and forth, but a strange sound nearby caught our attention. It sounded like someone sobbing.

"Shhh, listen!" Kimber said, putting a finger to her lips. The sound was clearer now, and it seemed to be coming from Shana and Raya's room, across the hall. Curious and more than a little concerned, we hurried up to the door, knocking on it gently.

"Shana? Raya? Is everything all right in there?"

The crying stopped abruptly, and there was a heavy pause as whoever was in distress stalked up to the door and swung it open.

"You want to know what's wrong!" A tearstained, very disheveled Raya cried, flinging an arm in the direction of the bathroom. An array of test strips were lined up along the counter, all tipped with a telling bright blue chemical. "See for yourselves!"

Kimber gingerly examined one of the tests. "Doesn't blue mean pregnant?" She blurted, and I elbowed her. She yelped, rubbing her arm with a pout.

An explosive sob erupted from the young drummer as she plunked down on the closed toilet, huddled over in emotional pain. I gathered Raya into my arms as best I could, trying not to drip chlorined pool water all over her. Kimber shut the door behind us, so as not to wake Shana yet. She perched herself on the edge of the bathtub in front of Raya, her big blue eyes wide with concern.

"It was the night of the concert in Mexico City," Raya warbled, leaning into me. "Luis and I had shared a margarita, danced late into the night. It was wonderful, maybe the best night of my life. We talked about everything; about our families, our careers, our hopes and dreams. He was just so easy to talk to, unlike most of the men that have wanted me in the past, and I shared things with him that I had never shared with anyone before." There was a heavy pause, then she said, "Including my virginity."

Kimber and I nodded with silent understanding. Neither of us had been a stranger to impulsive passion, but then, neither of us, thankfully, had found ourselves in this situation. Raya sniffled and accepted an outstretched tissue box from Kimber.

"We were...together...quite a few times that night, but every time, he and I were sure to be careful. But those tests, they're telling quite a different story, no?" She threw the used tissue into the trash with far more force than necessary. "I love children. I _want_ to have children, but not by a one night stand with a man in another country, that I barely have a relationship with, let alone be married to. My family will be devastated! And the tour! I'm already at least four months along by now! How can I play the drums if I can't even fit behind the damned kit?"

"Oh, Raya, it'll be okay!" I assured her while rubbing her heaving back, meeting Kimber's eyes. "We can work this out. Our tour can wait, but you come first. Look, you like and trust Luis enough to do what you did, right?"

"Of course!" she replied, her tone slightly indignant.

"He cared enough about you to think about you all the time since our last visit to Mexico, then sought you ought and spent quality time with you the moment he knew you'd be back."

"So?"

"So, Luis is obviously a good man. He cares for you deeply, and you two are so good together. If you tell him, and you really should tell him, Raya, then he'll be by your side."

"It's not Luis I'm worried about, I told you, it's my _family._ My mother will never forgive me for having a baby out of wedlock, it's an abomination in the eyes of her beloved church!" Raya spat the word out as if it tasted bitter, and it very well may have. "What am I going to tell her? That her darling Carmen is nothing but a careless slut?"

"Honey, it was your first time with a man you trusted. You're neither careless nor slutty, and all of us know that." Kimber told her, taking her hand in hers and patting it reassuringly. "Maybe you can go to your father first, and he can help you handle your mom."

Raya gave a snort of a laugh, without a trace of humor. "It's possible. But not likely."

A soft knock on the door made us all look up, as Aja and Shana nudged their way inside. "We couldn't help overhearing," Aja confessed.

"Kimber's right, Raya." Shana said quietly. "You know we're all here for you, no matter what." Raya sniffled, wiping away the drying streaks of tears from her face. "Yes, I do know that. So what do we do now?" She asked, looking at all of us. "Do we call off the tour?"

I met Aja's eyes. She glanced at Raya and shook her head. We both knew wouldn't be kind to herself if she thought she'd derailed our tour all by herself, not to mention the snarky reaction we'd get from most of the Misfits if that happened. "It's up to you, Raya." I said. "It's your body, and your baby. If you feel up to it, I see no real reason to cancel the tour. There's only a few more dates left as it is."

Raya nodded, seeming relieved. "I've been a little sick in the mornings - that's what made me try the tests - but I feel well enough to finish." She stood up and wrapped her robe tighter around herself. "I'll go call Luis."

I agreed, and each of us took turns embracing our dear friend. "Well, before you do, let's order room service and celebrate!" Kimber exclaimed. "This is supposed to be a happy occasion! You're going to be a mom!"

Raya finally managed a smile at Kimber's exuberance. They left the bathroom to go pore over the menu, while Aja, Shana and I stayed behind.

"She's going to need all the support we can give her," Aja commented with concern. "Yeah, dealing with this is not gonna be easy," Shana added, and I nodded.

"I know," I said sadly, watching Kimber and Raya. "But we have to try."

---

**Danse**

Shaking with severely repressed anger, I strode through the halls of Haven House, trying hard to ignore everyone's concerned stares as I banged my way into my dance studio. Flipping on the light and dropping my backpack unceremoniously to the finished wood floor, I hung a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door before slamming it. I sank to the floor, a sob escaping from my chest.

I couldn't believe what I'd just done. I was so stupid. How could I have let myself be so vulnerable in front of the very woman who'd conditioned me to constantly feel that way? I'd never be able to erase the image of Nadia's disgusted sneer when I told her about myself and Vivian, or the epithet she'd uttered, in Russian.

"An 'abomination', Nadia? Is that all I am to you anymore?" I cried, shedding my fringed denim jacket and flinging it beside my backpack. I reached for my trusted ballet slippers, lacing the ribbons around my ankles as I muttered to myself. "My own mother," I grumbled, slipping a cassette of the Motels' _Little Robbers_ into the boom box. "How could she be so cruel?"

Well, what did I expect? Acceptance? Kindness! I demanded of myself as I straightened up and assumed position. Did I really think that she'd understand?

After all, this was the woman who uprooted me from everything I'd ever known and shipped us both off to America, only to abandon me on the steps of Haven House when I was only twelve, and left me to fend for myself. Even now when I'd asked about it, she'd never bothered to explain exactly why she'd done it.

And it had taken so unbearably long to be able to trust anyone again, let alone find the capacity to love. Was it so wrong to need affection, and find another who craved the same?

The music, sweeping and epic, swirled furiously through the air and into my conciousness. I began to move with it, trying to lose myself, and my anger, through vigorous movement as a form of meditation.

I loved Viv, too, I really did. I'd never forget the day I first saw her, an aspiring young filmmaker who wanted to base her finals project on Haven House. That thatch of bright golden hair cascading over elegant shoulders, those electric green eyes that made me stop and stare, oblivious to everything but her. Then, she'd smiled at me, and I was swept away. Somehow, I'd managed to keep my feelings suppressed, even as our friendship developed along with her project, and her visits to Haven House became more and more frequent.

It was easy to keep my cool about it, until I ended up in rehab with severely damaged leg tendons and a fractured tibia, and my career was at the mercy of the doctors. All the Holograms had been so supportive, but it was Vivian who had been by my side when they left me alone at night with my pain. I was overcome with gratitude, and love, and she knew it.

From that moment on, we kept our romance a secret from everyone in our inner circle, mostly upon my insistence. Vivian was nothing if not honest, but then, she had been aware of her homosexuality all her life. I, suffice to say, had not.

Then there was Yugoslavia, and Stefan.

By then, I had no idea what I was doing. The dashing young dancer had showed interest in me, and I responded to his advances with a private air of desperation, hoping a torrid love affair would serve to draw the line within myself, between male and female desires. Stefan was sensuous, exciting, everything a girl could ever dream of, but he was no Vivian, and she had been none too pleased with either of us. Nothing had hurt more than the look on her face while I stood with him on the back of the train, his arm wrapped around me like she used to do.

She'd cornered me in between the cars, those green eyes blazing, pinning me to the wall.

"Do you love him?" Vivian had panted, "or do you love me?"

I gaped at her, fighting for the right words to say. "Viv - "

"What is it, Gisele? What excuse can you possibly have?" She exclaimed. "You can't just melt into my arms one day, then run away from your feelings the next. You know it hurts me, but the choice is yours. Him or me."

Tears like fire scalded the edges of my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but a sigh came out instead.

"You," I'd proclaimed, cupping her face in my hands. "It's you that I love."

Her mouth came down on mine, and I wrapped my arms around her, never wanting to ever let go. And I didn't. Not when the two of us reentered the railway car, not when Stefan had stared at us until he understood his true place, and certainly not that cold night in the cottage, when I had come to her, and she gave me comfort. She was, I mused dreamily, so very good at that.

"Gisele?"

I almost fell over in the midst of a pirouhette at the sound of Viv's voice, startled out of my trance. She stood in the doorway, having a good laugh at my reaction. I scowled at her as I crawled over to the stereo and clicked it off.

"I put that sign on the door for a reason, you know," I scolded her.

"Sorry, bunny." Viv replied, and I couldn't help but soften at the use of her pet name for me. "I finally finished editing the Holograms' video, and I thought I'd drop by and see you, see how lunch with Nadia went."

I winced at the mention of my mother's name, something I hoped Vivian wouldn't see, but of course she did. She came inside, gently shutting the door and sitting down next to me on the floor. "It's okay," I told her, picking absently at a worn patch of my ballet slipper. "I came here to get my agressions out, but everything's fine."

Vivian sighed knowingly, and gathered me into her arms, while I tried and failed to choke back a fresh flood of tears. "Everything's fine," I repeated. "Everything's just fine."

---

**Rio**

It was obscenely late by the time the men and I got the stage hauled away and packed into the trucks, ready for shipping to the next city tommorrow. Jerrica had waited for me until I was done for the night, and now stifled a yawn as we walked hand in hand down the hall.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I've been up since dawn, with Raya and everything."

"Yeah, I heard. Is she all right?"

Jerrica gave a little shrug. "It's hard to tell. She went through the motions tonight like the pro she is, but we all knew it was weighing heavy on her. She called Luis this morning."

"And?"

"As soon as we get home, he's supposed to fly in from Mexico to be with her. He really is a good man. He'll be a great father."

I smiled, squeezing her hand gently. "Makes me think about having a family of our own soon."

Jerrica smiled back, but a bit reluctantly. "Maybe...someday. Right now, the Starlight Girls are all the children I think I need."

I feigned a hurt look. "I think you think Luis would make a better daddy than me."

"Rio!" Jerrica burst out laughing at the thought. "It's not that. It's just that I've kind of been a mother most of my life," she said as we climbed the stairs to our suite. I laughed too, bidding the guards goodnight before closing the door behind us.

"You've been everything most of your life," I commented, shedding my shirt and jeans before sliding under the sheets, then reaching over to turn down the bedside lamp. Jerrica slowly shed her skintight irridescent minidress, and I watched, shamelessly, as each article of clothing fell away, revealing that stunning body of hers.

"God, you're beautiful," I whispered, and she shot me a captivating grin. But no, it was on with the nightshirt, a clear sign to me that I was not allowed to explore that body in full tonight. She dissappeared into the bathroom for a quick shower, and I listened, somewhat dissapointed, to the sound of the water.

Oh well, I thought when she returned, lifting the sheet and cuddling close to me, it didn't really matter. I had the rest of my life, thank God, to savor her company, and flushed with warmth at the thought. She reached over me to click off the lamp, and my thoughts drifted as the both of us lay in silence, trying to allow sleep to settle in.

"Rio?" She ventured just as I began to doze off. One of her nails traced a line along a hard curve of my abdomen, and I shivered, hoping maybe she had changed her mind.

"Mmm?"

"What about _your_ family?" Jerrica asked, and it was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on me.

"What about them?" I answered, trying not to sound cold, but I was completely taken aback. I had known, even before I proposed to her, that the truth would eventually have to come out. I just didn't think it would have to come out this quickly.

Jerrica slid her arm across my stomach, hugging me close to her. "Don't be like that. You know I'm not trying to make you angry, but I really do need to know. Did...did you want to invite them?"

I didn't respond, exhaling deeply as I rolled onto my back and stared into the darkness.

"You know you can tell me," she encouraged softly. "It's just that if we're going to be married..."

I groaned, a deep, guttural sigh of frustration. "Look, I really, _really_ don't want to get into it. I..." I trailed off, fighting for composure. There was the fact that she had had the guts to reveal all to me, and yet here I was, rendered speechless at the thought of bringing my family problems out in the open.

"I haven't spoken to either of them since my college years." I said. "There was...an incident."

I couldn't force myself to say any more. I was shaking, hard, and I knew she could feel it. Her hand reached out to touch my face, and shame flooded me when my hot tears made contact with her skin, and made her gasp so softly that I wasn't sure I had actually heard it.

Jerrica breathed my name, stroking the tears away while kissing each of my closed eyes. I reached for her, softly entangling my fingers in the blonde locks that had grown almost to Jem's length, and she didn't pull away. She offered herself to me, a gesture of solace, and arched her back as I eagerly, almost desperately accepted. Then everything else melted away.

---


	3. The Waiting Unknown

---

_Disclaimer: All characters are creations of Christy Marx and co., not me, and are property of Hasbro/Sony Wonder, 1985-2005. _

---

**Stormer**

Wild eyed and filled with fury, Pizzazz emitted a piercing wail that induced shrieking feedback from the stacks of Marshalls while the rest of us beat out the plodding staccato rhythm behind her. The studio audience screamed in delight, clamoring against the foot of the little stage. I exchanged a nervous look with Roxy; I'd heard far too many horror stories about fans being crushed in concert crowds, but Roxy only rolled her eyes before returning her attention to her aggressive riffs.

Get a grip, Stormer, she seemed to say. It ain't Wembley Stadium, it's the freakin' Harriet Horne show.

_"I'm so rich/ Gonna take you out, boy, take you OUT boy, YEAH!"_

Pizzazz's snarl was murderous, a carnivorous show of arrogance. One more jaunting run through the chorus, and our new single slammed to a halt, prompting deafening applause in it's wake. Parting the tightly packed pocket of fans, the swaggering talk show host invited herself onstage, proceeding to shove her ever present microphone in our singer's face.

"Hey, kids, that was great! How's it feel to just come off a sold out tour with your former bitter rivals, the Holograms, eh? Must've been a real kicker!"

"Sure was, Harriet!" Pizzazz crooned sarcastically as she fluffed her hair. "It's so good to be home."

"Even better to finally be away from those friggin' Holograms," I heard Roxy grumble under her breath. "I swear to God, if I had to endure one more soppy rendition of 'Like A Dream', I would've choked myself with my own guitar strings."

"Wouldn't 'ave had to do it all by yourself, now, Roxanne," Jetta cooed with barely veiled sarcasm, and I jabbed her in the ribs. "Not now!" I mouthed as Roxy shot her a scathing glare. "We're on live TV!"

"I thought it was cool," Clash piped up from behind her drumset. "Getting to play in front of thousands of people every night. It was a blast."

"Oh, you would, rookie." Pizzazz shot back over her shoulder. "And all you kids up front here, everybody better get their ass to Diskovery right now and pick up our new single, 'Rich', cause that's what it's gonna make us, thanks to you!" Harriet raised a delicate eyebrow in annoyance while the crowd cheered dutifully.

I sighed, wondering to myself which was the real Pizzazz: the one who desperately needed comforting in the wake of her confrontation with Eric, and needed us more than she realized, or the one that sat a little too confidently in his place, relishing in her greed and power.

The people in the audience quieted instantly from Harriet's pointed glare, which she promptly turned on Pizzazz. "So, the question on everyone's lips is, are you Misfits invited to the wedding of the year?"

Pizzazz blinked at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

A titter of nervous laughter rippled through the audience. "Oh, baby, I'm talking about Jem's wedding to her manager and producer, Rio Pacheco! You gals _have_ gotten your invitations, right? Or is your rivalry with Jem still white hot?"

I tried not to squirm, instantly thinking of the little silver lined white card Kimber had discreetly slipped into my hand on the last date of the tour.

"Well, for one thing, ducks, she don't even call herself 'Jem' anymore, so you best pry your head out from your arse," Jetta replied. "And of _course_ we've been invited to her big day," Pizzazz chimed in sweetly, mugging for the cameras. "How could she not invite us?"

"All right, there you have it, boys and girls! We're fresh outta time, but be sure to tune in next week to Cool Trash Magazine, and don't forget," Harriet prompted, and the crowd answered in unison, "Your barbecues are never dull!"

A group of large, black tee shirt clad men enclosed on us just as the lilting cheeseball strains of the show's theme song began to permeate the studio. "I'm sick of you people constantly stealing my spotlight. I want you off my set in fifteen minutes, or I'll throw you out myself," Harriet sneered, jabbing a sharp acrylic nail at the air for emphasis before turning on her heel and departing for her dressing room.

"'You gals _have_ gotten your invitations, right?'" mimicked Roxy as we began to pack away our instruments. "Ugh, I hate that bitch! I wish LinZ would get over herself so we could get on that show again and do some real promotion!"

"Yeah, ever since Sean dissed us on air for Kimber, she's been nothing but a royal pain in the ass," Pizzazz agreed with a candid roll of her eyes. "But she's the only one that'll have us on anymore."

"Well, whose fault is that?" I asked, and immediately regretted it. All four of them stopped and stared at me.

Pizzazz looked at me particularly strangely, probably mentally testing herself on my loyalty to the band, again. "Now what," she began slowly, "would make you say a thing like that, Stormer?"

I looked away and hoisted my guitar strap over my shoulder, pushing past them into the darkened hallway. "Forget it. Let's just get out of here, okay? The last thing I want is to end up in the clink without anyone to bail us out just because Harriet's feeling moody."

No one else said anything as Jetta and Roxy helped Clash dismantle her drumset, while Pizzazz and I lugged each amp into the back of our van. I slammed the doors shut after the last of the equipment had been loaded, and all five of us silently piled into the van, Pizzazz, as always, in the driver's seat.

"You got an invitation, didn't you?" She asked me point blank after peeling out of the parking lot, and I cringed. "Kimber gave it to me," I acknowledged.

Roxy and Jetta predictably rolled their eyes at me, and Pizzazz sniffed in disdain. "Well, don't think any of us are going with you, " She said. "Yeah, I've had just about all the Holographic saccharine I can swallow," Clash added under her breath. Pizzazz's eyes met mine in the rear view mirror.

"Go ahead and waste your time if you want, Stormer, but remember we've got a new single to promote. We don't have time to go flitting around to shallow social events anymore, and I'm not gonna let _anything_ get in my way of rising to the top of the industry's food chain."

Her voice had an icy edge to it, but I didn't flinch. Too exhausted from touring and endless album promotion, too fed up with my band mates' primadonna antics, I glared at her sharply.

"What makes you think that I could possibly forget?" I retorted. She didn't reply, and I shifted my weight to stare pensively out the window.

---

**Jerrica**

Raya climbed out of the van first, assisted by a mildly jetlagged Luis, who was trying his best to play the part of the brave protector. The rest of us paused a moment to share a worried glance before following them.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" He asked her. Raya pursed her lips, inhaled sharply and nodded at him, placing a hand on her slightly rounded abdomen. "I'm sure. It's best to get it over with." Luis smiled proudly, leaning in for a brief kiss.

All of us assembled on the Alonso's front porch, waiting awkwardly while Raya rapped on the door. "Mama! Daddy! Anyone home?"

A tall, rather gangly young man came to the door, grinning broadly at the sight of his sister. "Raya! Hey, Pop, Raya's here!" He shouted into the house, then took a double take and smiled even more. "And she's brought a new friend!"

"Carlos!" Raya exclaimed, pushing the screen door open and smacking the boy on the arm. "Shut up already, you make it sound so illicit."

Carlos eyed his sister suspiciously. "Illicit, eh?" He insinuated, adding something in Spanish that made Raya slap him again with greater consternation.

"What's this about a new friend?" Mr. Alonso called out. He came out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dish towel, smiling at us warmly. "Ah, Jerrica, Holograms! It's been a long time!" The smile faded slightly when he spotted Luis.

"You are the young man my Raya met in Mexico City, _si?_"

"_Si, Senor Alonso_." Luis extended his hand to the man. "Luis Renaldo, sir. It's good to see you again."

"Yes," Mr. Alonso said slowly, accepting his hand and shaking it. "And to what do we owe the pleasure?" His eyes flicked over Raya, who suddenly blushed and moved closer to her mate. Her father's eyebrows rose.

"Dad, there's something I need to talk to you and Mama about," she said tentatively, and those eyebrows practically shot to the ceiling. "Something I think I'd better tell you about now." The sympathetic knot of fear I felt for Raya tightened, and I looked at Aja, who bit her lip and drew a deep breath.

A few minutes later, all of us were assembled in the Alonso's family room. Raya's brothers dragged the last of the dining room chairs inside to accomodate us, while her parents watched from the loveseat in tense silence. She and Luis sat across from them on the couch, taking one another's hand.

"Mama, Daddy, I love you dearly. You know that, don't you?" She asked. Mrs. Alonso frowned and cast a worried look at her husband. "Of course we know that, Raya," Mr. Alonso replied.

"Good," Raya said, looking up at Luis, "because there's no easy way to tell you this. Mama, Daddy, Luis and I are going to have a baby together."

A strange expression crossed her mother's face. "Oh, Carmen, no! You mean to tell me you have eloped without us knowing, without our consent? Why would you do that? Why would you deprive us of seeing you get married?"

"Oh, Lord, here we go," Shana murmured, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling.

Raya grasped Luis's hand tightly, looking down at the embroidered rug. "No, Mama. We didn't elope. We aren't married." Mrs. Alonso paled.

"It happened while we were on tour," Raya quickly continued. "Luis found out about our stop in Mexico City, and - "

"I don't want to hear it!" The diminutive woman practically shrieked. In an instant she was on her feet, her face taking on purple shades of anger. "I cannot believe this! My daughter, bearing a child of sin!"

"Mama, please!"

"Oh, don't you tell me 'please', Carmen, don't you _dare_!" Mrs. Alonso stalked across the room, yanking a string of rosary beads off of a nearby statue of the Virgin Mary and clutching it to her bosom in prayer. Tentatively, Luis stood up and took a step towards her.

"_Senora_, I love your daughter. I respect your daughter, and I will care for her, I will protect her." He began, but Mrs. Alonso whirled on him. "Oh? Is that so? You call stealing my Carmen's innocence, making her with child protecting her? She is barely out of her teens, Mr. Renaldo, and now she is spoiled, spoiled in the eyes of God forever, thanks to you! " She turned to face Raya, her spine curving the rest of her body into a threatening stance. "No, no, it is too late, Carmen! Why? Why! _¡Por qué tienen usted deshonró nuestra familia!_"

Raya slowly rose from the couch. Her eyes narrowed, filling with tears that she made every effort to blink back. "Mama, I admit, I made a mistake. I know I have dissapointed you, but in no way did I dishonor God or this family!" Mrs. Alonso turned away, and Raya threw up her hands. "Ah, it's no use! I knew this would happen! I knew you wouldn't bother to let me explain myself!"

We could do nothing but sink into our seats as their argument escalated in rapid-fire Spanish. Kimber cringed at something Mrs. Alonso shouted, and again at Raya's nearly screamed response.

"Oh, no," She moaned. "I can't catch all of it, but believe me, what I can understand is not pretty."

"What do we do?" Aja entreated, horrified. "Do we try and intervene?" Just then the Virgin statue was hurled to the floor in anger, shattering loudly and startling everyone in the room into action. Carlos and the other two Alonso boys leapt from their various seats, pleading with their mother and trying to hold her away from Raya.

"Enough!" Raya's father barked above the din, stepping in bravely between the two furious women. "Maria, I must speak with you."

"But Jorge -"

_"Ahora, _Maria." He led his wife by the arm into the nearby kitchen, speaking to her in hushed tones while Aja and I immediately came to Raya's side. She stared after her mother, shaking as we led her back to the couch, stroking her hair and letting her cry. One of the boys got up to retrieve a broom and somberly began sweeping up the porcelain shards of the statue.

"I knew this would happen," she kept whimpering. "I knew it."

Luis knelt before her and cradled her head in his hands, murmuring something in her ear. She convulsed with a sob, nodding every now and then as he continued to try and soothe her. The rest of us all quietly sat back, waiting for the ordeal to run it's course.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity and a half, Mr. and Mrs. Alonso emerged from the refuge of the kitchen, immediately commanding Raya's attention. "Your father has tried to convince me that I may have been a bit too hard on you, Carmen." Mrs. Alonso stated, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a hankerchief as she spoke. "I don't agree with him. I will not lie to you and tell you that I approve of this."

Raya nodded silently, fresh tears trailing their way down her cheeks. "But," the woman continued with an overly dramatic sigh, "I have no choice but to accept it. You are an adult, Raya, still a good woman despite this...mistake."

She glanced up with a start. "Mama...you called me Raya. You've _never_ called me Raya."

Mrs. Alonso looked at her husband, then at her daughter, and nodded once. "As I said, I am forced to accept the fact that you are an adult. I know you will make a wonderful mother." Raya immediately brightened. "Then you - you don't disown me? You haven't stopped loving me?"

Her mother's eyes closed briefly. "Perhaps," she resigned, "It is a blessing in disguise." She held out her arms in a close approximation to an apology, and to our collective relief, Raya stood up to allow herself to be embraced.

---

**Riot**

From the clear disdain in the Countess DuVoisin's voice when I introduced myself, I could tell she would not bend quite as easily as I had hoped. "Yes, I know who you are," she said, her words crackling over the phone line. "I've heard all I need to know from Regine."

Closing my eyes at the mention of that annoying oversight, I switched the reciever to my other ear. "Countess, I know you are an extremely important woman, so I won't waste your valuable time. I'm calling to ask a slight favor of you, if you would be so kind."

The irritation was obvious in her silence. "Which is?"

"My bandmates and I are currently planning a surprise performance for my dear friend Jerrica Benton's wedding reception, and I require some slight assistance with it's preparation. I only ask for a bit of extra time to set up, a space to perform in, and a room on your vessel in which to stay for the night. Which I am more than happy to compensate for, financially, of course." I quickly added.

"I'm afraid I cannot do that. Jerrica has already informed me that a band has been hired for the occasion."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "Yes, I realize this," I replied edgily. "This is why I must have this performance kept a secret, so the surprise is not ruined. Can I count on your cooperation or not, Miss DuVoisin?"

She hesitated. I knew all of little Regine Cesaire's tearful recounts of exploitation were running through her mind. Still, I waited patiently for the countess to listen to reason. "I see no real reason to refuse you, Mr. Lewellyn," She replied evenly, and I smiled. "Unless you and your so called bandmates give me one, I suppose I can allow it."

"Excellent," I purred, intentionally letting my voice take on it's lowest of registers. "You have my eternal gratitude...Danielle."

The other end went dead. She had hung up on me, and I laughed, meeting Minx and then Rapture's casually inquiring gazes from across the room.

"We're going on a cruise, unbeknownst to Jem and her little roadie. " I informed them, watching them carefully. "We'll make our presences known during the reception, although I must admit, it will be hard for me to keep my tongue at the captain's request of objections to the union."

Rapture smiled slowly. She lifted herself off of her seat and crossed the room, placing a tiny brown vial in the palm of my hand with a caressing manner. "I've been working on it for a long time. It's a derivative of datura, with enough neutral elements added to render it harmless, yet extremely potent."

My laughter came out as a murmur of approval. I handed the vial to Minx, who glanced up at me with something like bewilderment. "It would be easiest taken with a glass of wine." Her eyebrows shot up. "You want me to _drug him?"  
_

"It's a sedative, my dear Minx, not a date rape pill. It won't harm him in the least, and we both will get what we want."

Her expression shifted into one approximating motherly concern. Before she could open those pretty red lips and utter a word of protest, my own expression turned hard. "You have reservations about this, Minx?"

Minx glanced at me apprehensively before pocketing the vial in question. "No," she finally said. "No, of course not." An almost calculated grin spread across her face. "In fact, this may be a perfect opportunity for me to finally conquer the long elusive Rio."

"Good," I replied with a nod. "Because if I didn't know better, I'd think that your 'nice' phase was beginning a new chapter in your life. I am pleased to know that that is not the case."

---

**Danse**

Shana was holding out a silver platter of cheesecake fruit tarts to me. "They're Mrs. Bailey's specialty," she sang in an obvious ploy for me to take one. I felt Vivian elbow me gently and repressed a sigh as I accepted one of the succulent pastries and reluctantly bit into it. Shana grinned and passed the platter to Kimber, who accepted them eagerly.

"Oh, how beautiful!" Raya suddenly cooed, removing a little yellow fleece jumpsuit from the package Viv and I had brought her. "I hope it's all right," Vivian said apologetically. "We didn't know if you knew the sex of the baby, so we just thought yellow would be neutral enough. Plus, it was too adorable to pass up."

"I love it!" Raya said immediately, gingerly raising her noticeably pregnant self from the loveseat and wading through the pile of gifts and discarded wrapping paper to hug each of us. Warmly I accepted her embrace, although I just couldn't help but be reminded again of Nadia as I did. Had she been as excited to be a new mother as Raya was? I doubted it. Learning the news just after being told my father was dead couldn't have been the easiest thing in the world. It probably made her into the warped, bitter woman I knew now, the one that I hadn't heard one word from since I told her I was gay. That had been at least six weeks ago. As hard as I tried to track her down, she seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth again.

The doorbell chimed softly, followed by Kimber's squeal. She launched herself off the couch in the way of the front door, while all the Holograms exchanged puzzled looks.

"Who could that be?" Jerrica mused. "Everyone's already here, aren't they?" No sooner did the words leave her mouth than the brash noise of a boom box playing "It's Raining Men" began to blare, followed by a very muscular, very tan young man that looked a little like Stefan, dressed in an obviously phony police uniform. Kimber bounded inside after him. Aja, Raya and Shana let out startled squeals before doubling over in hysterics.

"Oh, no. No!" Jerrica exclaimed, unable to keep from laughing herself as the man began gyrating provocatively in front of her. Her hands flew up to shield her eyes. "Kimber Benton, you duped me! You promised you wouldn't turn this shower into a bachelorette party!"

By now everyone was laughing, even the stripper; combined with the bleating disco and all the overexposed male flesh, it was getting to me. Tossing my half eaten tart onto a napkin, I stood up and touched Aja's arm. "Could I please use your phone?" Her dark eyes peered at me curiously. "Sure," she said, motioning towards the kitchen. "Help yourself." Only she and Vivian noticed me leave the room.

Mrs. Bailey wasn't in the kitchen when I stepped inside. Probably upstairs keeping all the preteens away from the spectacle, I thought, flushing with a somewhat guilty relief. She was a lovely woman and all, but I wanted this conversation to be as private as possible. Breathing a sigh before lifting the receiver off the wall, I poked at the numbers and waited through three rings.

"Hello?"

"Dad! Hi," I responded brightly. "How - how are you doing?"

There was a gentle reproachful laugh on the other end. "Gisele, I'm fine. Nothing has changed since the last time you called. Which, if you remember, was quite early this morning," he chuckled. I leaned against the wall and slid down until my rear end touched the floor. "I'm sorry. But I'm trapped here at what _was_ my friend Raya's baby shower - " I stole a glance into the living room, where Stefan's American twin was proudly showing off the world's tiniest existing loincloth to the 4/4 beat - "and is now Jerrica Benton's very fleshy bachelorette party. Needless to say, I needed some air."

"Ah, yes, of course. This phone call has absolutely nothing to do with anything about Nadia. It's completely different from the other calls when you tried to milk information out of me that I did not have."

"Oh, come on, Dad. Can you really blame me? After all these years I finally found her, only to chase her away again by outing myself! I...I just really need to know where she is," I said, and immediately felt that sting of teenage grief again. I closed my eyes in consternation as my father replied calmly, "Only time will tell. If it is meant to be, Gisele, you and she will work things out. If it is not..."

"It has to be!" I cried out. Suddenly I noticed the music and carrying on had stopped, the stripper was gone, and all the Holograms had the same look of alarm painted on their faces. "It has to be," I whispered again, wiping away a tear and feeling very small. "I can't let her just throw me away again, Dad. I'm an adult and I decide what to do with my life, not her. I don't care how much she hates me for it."

My father's sigh spoke volumes. "Gisele, I can't tell you much, but I can tell you this. Nadia does not hate you."

"She called me an abomination! How much more hateful can you be!"

"Hate has nothing to do with it, Gisele." He countered patiently. "It is nothing but fear. It is not only Victor's lies, but her upbringing, the phobia in our country's society that is behind her behavior."

"Well, that doesn't help it hurt any less, Dad," I moaned, twirling the phone cord idylly between two fingers. "And it doesn't explain everything that she's done to me, either."

I exhaled a resigned breath from my nostrils, letting the silence give voice to the bulk of my pain. A soft hand I knew was Viv's laid upon my shoulder. I nodded impatiently, waving her away and turning my attention back to my father.

"Thanks anyway, Daddy," I murmured. "I am always here, Gisele," He replied softly. I could practically feel his elation at being addressed in such a childlike, loving manner. "And I'm always willing to listen."

With a sad smile, I told him I loved him and hung up, preparing myself to return to the so-called party.


	4. You've Got Her In Your Pocket

**Disclaimer:**_ All characters are creations of Christy Marx and are property of Hasbro/ Sony Wonder 1985-2005. All rights reserved to them and NOT to me._

**A/N:** _For the purposes of making my little Deirdre storyline believable, I've made her legal in this fic. I figured she wasn't far off from fifteen or so when she, Chrissie and Ba Nee went on their adventure, so three years later it's not much of a stretch (hopefully). The song she plays for Rio is in the Avril/ Ashlee/ Michelle vein if anyone's curious about my vision. Anyway, Showtime._

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**Rio**

Slumping down by my elbows on the console, I watched the Fifth Avenue Boys flail away on their already battered synthesizers and kept hearing my compliment to Jerrica about their first recording session. "No prob, they have a great sound," I mocked myself under my breath with a roll of the eyes. Jay leaned over to the mic and garbled out something lyric-like in a manner he must have thought extremely avant garde. That was my last straw.

"I think that's enough for today, guys," I said while pressing the intercom button. All three looked up, their faces contorting in defiance, and I sighed, knowing what was coming. "Whaddaya mean, we're done for the day?" Jay exclaimed. "We've just gotten started!"

I closed my eyes and pressed the button again. "Jay, we've been here since the crack of dawn. This is at least your hundredth take and we're no closer to anything that even resembles a proper song!"

"But it's _progressive_, man!" He whined, and I leaned over to rub my face in exasperation. "We don't serve the masses anymore. This is high art, man, stuff that makes the suits all nervous cause it's too, like, minblowing and stuff!"

Yeah, well, I'm marrying one of those suits in a few days, and I know she won't want to deal with your pretentious crap when she could be selling quality music. You know, the kind you used to play, I thought but didn't say aloud. The last thing I wanted was a long winded lecture from three overcoiffed potential has-beens on the fact that I was, for better or worse, going to be Mr. Starlight Music. "Look, I'll ink you a new session for first thing tomorrow morning with one of the other engineers. I don't know about you, but I for one am exhausted."

"Exhausted, he says. More like you wanna save all that energy you got for your new wifey, eh?" Tom jibed at me as he passed through the door on his way out. Jay and Joe burst out laughing, barreling out into the hall after him and jostling each other. Above their guttural celebrating, I heard a scuffle, then an indignant high pitched squawk, and the laughter stopped.

"Geez, why don't you morons watch where you're going!"

The response was mumbled, sounding tossed off over a shoulder while exiting the building. My frustration level well beyond the breaking point, I stood up and went to help whoever they'd collided with, ready to tell Jay exactly what I thought of him and his "progressive" antics. But the angry words stalled in my throat when I lay eyes on a startled Deirdre. She whipped her head around to stare at me, eyes wide, as she bent to pick up sheet music that had scattered onto the floor.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, shoving all the papers into a manila folder under her arm. "There's nothing to be sorry about," I responded as I helped her up. "Just a case of wrong place, wrong time." I squinted at her. "Speaking of which, why exactly are you here, if you don't mind me asking?" While they all knew I cared for them, and vice versa, none of the girls really came to me for anything, let alone visited me alone at the workplace.

The petite blond teenager looked around nervously, then graced me with an awkward toothy smile. "I hope I'm not bothering you, Rio." She evaded with an apologetic shrug, pushing her way past me into the studio. I noticed then the acoustic guitar she held in tow. "That - that's okay," I stuttered, shaking my head. "What's up?"

Deirdre still didn't answer me, instead lifting the guitar strap onto her shoulder and picking out a gentle three chord melody. Irritated but curious at the same time, I sat back down in the swiveling chair to listen. I spoke her name again, as a question, and her eyes gleamed.

_"I'm standing here alone/ so frightened by the cold/ and the dark, and the sound of that voice_

_It's calling out to me/ And I can hear it bleed/ _

_Through the driving rain without a sound/_

_Couldn't anyone try to find me / Just help me find my way home..."_

Her voice was a little raspy, but it was clear and sweet, a melodious tone that commanded attention with it's sheer simplicity. The picking fleshed out into full fledged strumming, adding muscle to what was apparently the chorus.

_"Such a damn hard life / Making my way through this night_

_Would you / take me by the hand / back to what we knew_

_Still don't know what you are, but I / I'm with you_

_Still with you..."_

Little hairs on the back of my neck stood up, chilled by the longing in her words. Some part of me could easily relate; random disturbing images of familial tensions swam in front of my mind's eye. I blinked them away and gawked at this newfound musical prodigy auditioning right in front of me. Deirdre stopped playing and looked at me directly. "Rio, I kinda need your help with something." She glanced towards the recording booth, and my eyes followed her gaze as I began to catch her drift.

"Have you played this for Jerrica?" Now it was my turn to be evasive, and Deirdre smirked. "Right. Like she can find the time between prepping your wedding and getting Lela ready for college. Some things never change." She looked away and started to pick the guitar absently. "Besides, I wanted to see if I could do this. You know, without her help. I'm eighteen now," Deirdre asserted when I didn't respond. "I want to strike out on my own."

I leaned back in the chair, folding my arms across my chest, sighing. "I hear you, Deirdre, but I don't want to go behind anyone's back here, especially my fiancee's." She groaned. "Look, all I'm asking for is a demo recording, something I can distribute to radio and record companies myself. That's it. Jerrica never has to know you were the one behind the soundboard."

I looked at Deirdre, then the empty booth and back to Deirdre again. "Let's give it a go," I said finally, and Deirdre squealed, nearly smothering me in a bear hug. "OhRioyou'rethebestthankyou_thankyou_!" She bolted for the recording booth, almost tripping over herself in her haste to get to the microphone. Hoisting herself up onto the stool, she dangled the folder proudly between her thumb and forefinger. "I got a million of 'em!" She said, beaming, and I tried not to groan aloud.

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**Jerrica**

After Kimber, Aja, Shana and I had lugged all of Lela's worldly possessions up four flights of stairs into her tiny dorm room and Raya had made the final check for anything still in the van, I pulled my first surrogate daughter to me for one last hug. "Are you sure you're going to be all right?" I asked again. "Do you need anything else? Anything at all?"

The other Holograms groaned in unison. Lela politely slipped from my arms and smiled, shaking her head at me. "Jerrica, I'm _fine_," She tried assuring me for the millionth time. "Really. I'm so ready for this whole college experience. I'm going to be all right."

Very reluctantly, I smiled back. Of course I knew she was going to be all right. Lela had been itching to get out on her own and away from the controlled chaos of Starlight House since her first day of high school. Stuffing down my burgeoning pangs of empty nest syndrome, I nodded. "Well, I guess this is it."

"Oh, come on, Jeri, it's not like you're not seeing her again in five days anyway," Aja chided me, gently tugging my sleeve. "Yeah, Jerrica, I'll be there first thing to see you and Rio get married," Lela added with a sunny grin. "I can't wait. It's going to be wonderful." I hugged her again, breathing deep and trying not to cry. "You're right. I'm being the dreaded clingy mother stereotype. I'll see you then, okay?"

She broke away then and started for the dormitory. "Okay!" Lela called out, waving to us voraciously as we climbed back into the van. All of us called out our goodbyes and good lucks, sounding much more exuberant than we felt. Then again, maybe it really was just me. But it didn't help to know that soon I would have to do a simliar thing with Deirdre, who had reached adulthood about the same time as Lela, and then all the other girls would follow suit. I didn't want to think about living inside the empty mansion without girlish laughter filling it's homey interior. Even the thought of having Rio by my side didn't soothe the nagging sensation of loss.

I clicked on the radio after navigating the van onto the 405, saying nothing of these feelings to the others. I didn't have to, of course; most of the time, we knew what each other was feeling by default. No one spoke as we cruised along. The new adult contemporary format of KJEM filtered through the speakers, doing it's best to fill in the void. Every song was pleasant, upbeat, smooth. Each one blended into the other until one particular song caught my ear. Beside me in the passenger seat, Shana perked up to listen, too.

"That voice sure sounds familiar," She remarked thoughtfully. "And so young, too," Aja piped up from the backseat. "I love the chord progression. What a beautiful song."

"I wonder who it's by," I commented, thinking privately of whether or not this ingenue would want to sign with Starlight. No sooner did the idea cross my mind than the deejay announced her full name, and the title of her number one hit. My stomach dropped as the van swerved, prompting cries of surprise from everyone inside, and I struggled to pull the vehicle over and calm myself. "_Our_ Deirdre!" Kimber exclaimed once she caught her breath. "I knew I knew that voice!" I turned around to shush her.

_"...an unprecedented event in pop music, the first number one single by an unsigned artist. A huge bidding war has broken out for Deirdre's signature on the dotted line, but Pizzazz Gabor's Misfits' Music is the front runner now, offering a multimillion dollar contract to the white hot star! No word yet on if Deirdre's accepted, but if she does you can bet her album will rake it in for Misfits' Music, that's a guarantee!"_

Shana reached over to click off the chattering box as I put my head in my hands. "This is insanity! How did she even cut a demo?...how _could_ she..." My breath stalled. I struggled to contain it in a regular rhythm while Shana's hand offered it's warmth to my shoulder. "Jerrica, I know you're upset, but Deirdre's an adult now. She can't be blamed for wanting to follow her dream, even if it means signing with Pizzazz."

"Especially with that irresistible contract." I moaned. "Maybe it's not too late. I could still talk to her about it, warn her, before she makes that mistake." I raised my head up slightly. "You know, just because we declared a 'truce' with Pizzazz and endured a tour together doesn't mean there's no animosity left. Who the hell does that woman think she is, trying to snatch Deirdre out from under me like that, and for the second time, no less!" My entire body shook with rage as all the implications fully sunk in.

"Come on," Aja grunted, climbing over the seat to take my place. "I'll drive the rest of the way."

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**Stormer**

Pizzazz pointed the remote and clicked off the stereo abruptly, silencing the gorgeous melody and that voice that had filled the room. A wolfish grin curved her lips as she placed one black lame heel on top of the other on what used to be Raymond's desk. "Did you hear that?" She asked me.

"Yeah," I responded absently, thumbing through an ancient copy of Cool Trash. "It was beautiful until you killed it in the middle of the high note."

"No, I mean what the deejay said." Pizzazz retorted. "The first unsigned artist ever to have a number one song on the Hot 100, and of all people, it's one of Benton's little Mouseketeers, Deirdre, 'cept now she's all grown up." I glanced up at that. "Can you believe it?" She crowed. "Do you know what this means for us?"

"No," I said slowly, setting the rag down and peering at her. "What does it mean, Pizzazz?"

She laughed, the kind of laugh she used to make when she was plotting something against the Holograms, and whirled around in her desk chair. "It means money," Pizzazz said to the window. "Oodles of dash, as our dear friend Jetta loves to say. Every record company in L.A. is rabid for her, but I'm the one who's going to sign that girl, Stormer. I'm gonna make her a huge star, and I'm gonna make us all multimillionaires again. It's going to be glorious!" She hissed.

I was glad she couldn't see my eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Oh? And what makes you so sure she'll accept your offer, Pizzazz? You said it yourself. Deirdre's the foster daughter of the CEO of the most powerful record company in the U.S." Pizzazz spun around to face me. "Stormer, she's _unsigned._ If she wanted to be on her mommy's label, she would've done it already, but she didn't. She doesn't _want_ to be on Starlight's roster. I'm gonna make sure she wants to be on ours."

"But what about Jerrica?" I pressed.

"What about her?" She replied coolly. "I don't give a damn what she or anybody else thinks."

"I know that. Everyone knows that. I just can't believe you're willing to throw our truce aside just to make a few bucks off of her adopted child."

Pizzazz snorted. "Oh, spare me the moral theatrics. Look, I keep telling you, nothing's gonna stop me from making Misfits Music the industry leader again, and that girl's teenybopping angst is our ticket to the top. I've sent the other harpies to the Galleria for the day so they don't scare her off, but she likes you. All of those brats like you. I kept you around to help sweettalk her." There was that smile again. "Can't you just imagine the look on Benton's face when she finds out she's been had by her own kid?"

I felt the heat of anger sweep up and ambush my face. "You can't be serious."

She glared at me, and my anger burned hotter. "Try me. You just try me and then we'll see whose band you're really in."

I had a sudden urge to strike her then, I really did. All the manners I had in me died away at the idea of still being her pawn, of my kindness being used to fuel her greedy fantasies just like the bad old days. I wanted to scream at her about how I had encouraged her to face down Eric and leave him for good, how I had comforted her after she finally did. I wanted to call her out on her hell bent determination to be better than anyone who ever snubbed her - Eric, Riot, Jerrica, her father - and now she'd become worse than any of them. But the shrill bleat of her desk phone beat me to the punch.

Pizzazz snatched the reciever up and held it to her ear. "What?" She barked out. Pause. "Yeah, fine, send her up." She dropped the phone back onto the hook and shot me a warning look. "If you're going to screw this up, then you can just leave right now. If you care about your band and _your _company in the least, you'll shut your yap and do what needs to be done."

I pressed my lips into a hard white line, my thoughts racing, as a tentative knock came on the door. I met Pizzazz's eyes, stared hard into them, and turned to answer it. I tried to soften for the timid young woman on the other side, who clutched a tiny cassette to her chest for dear life. I didn't blame her one bit. Her scared green eyes glinted at me in recognition and then fell on Pizzazz behind me.

"Deirdre!" Pizzazz sang out in a sickly sweet tone. "How wonderful to see you, we've been expecting you, darling!" The heavy scent of Yaki Tori perfume sashayed past me to usher Deirdre inside. "Shut the door," she said to me. "And get her a chair."

My fingers turned to fists, but I did as I was commanded for the sake of the girl. I sat adjacent to her on the couch, while Pizzazz slid behind the desk with an imperious attitude. "Let's get down to business, shall we?" She opened a drawer and slapped a thick packet of fine print and confusing clauses onto the desk. I knew by heart all the traps in that contract, how much of the world it promised and how much it actually delivered. Deirdre stared at it.

"I'm willing to pen a $10 million dollar record deal for you, Deirdre, just for your demos alone." Pizzazz purred, clearly enjoying the shocked reaction of her prey. "Ten million dollars!" She repeated dumbly. Pizzazz nodded. "All yours. All the fame, the fortune. Even creative control of everything you do under contract. Not even Jerrica will give you that."

Ten million we don't have yet to give, I thought sourly. Most of our royalty-fattened bankrolls had been poured into snatching this company from bankruptcy's jaws and financing _America's Sweethearts_. Must have taken out another "loan" from her Daddy. Funny how the more she resented him, the more she seemed to rely on him.

Deirdre's face fell. "She's always been fair to me."

"Really?" The smirk Pizzazz wore was mocking. "Well, Deirdre, sweetie, I seem to remember a time when Jerrica couldn't, no, _wouldn't_ give your songs the time of day. You don't remember coming to us in your time of need?" She clucked her tongue. "What a shame. I am truly hurt!"

"I remember," Deirdre said defensively. "I just don't care to, that's all."

Pizzazz stood up slowly, stalked around to the back of the chair her captive perched nervously in. "And what does that tell you, hmm?" Now she turned the chair so that she towered over her. "I'll tell you something. Jerrica may have taken care of you most of your life, but _I_ can see to it that you can take care of yourself for the rest of it. All it takes is your John Hancock on the dotted line, Deirdre. You know you want to, but I can't force you, of course." She backed off and took her place behind the desk again. The contract was slid forward, accompanied by a ballpoint pen. "You're an adult now. The choice is yours."

Deirdre bit her lip as she perused every page of the document thoroughly. I found it strange for someone so young to be able minded enough to be wary of such a sweet offer, but then, like Pizzazz had said, she was Jerrica's charge. She learned from the best. With a deep breath and a nod, the Starlight girl took the pen and squiggled out her acceptance as Pizzazz watched, practically drooling. The packet was pushed back across the desk along with the cassette of demos, and the CEO with the shit-eating grin eagerly accepted them.

"Honey, you won't regret it!" She crowed, coming around to squeeze Deirdre in her arms. Deirdre gasped and eeked out a thank you, trying not to let herself push away from her new boss. I shook her hand when Pizzazz finally let her go, clasping it between my palms. "We're glad to have you with us," I entreated with what I hoped was a sincere looking smile. She smiled back gratefully, probably happy to know there was at least one sound mind among the ranks. Pizzazz spouted a few more trivialities about impending fame and fortune to Deirdre as she led her to the door.

"See my secretary tommorrow," she told her. "She'll set you up with some sessions so we can get this monster rolling!"

"Thank you," Deirdre breathed. "Anything for you, sweetheart," Pizzazz cooed back, and then shut the door in her face. "Anything for me, that is," she uttered. I stood up from the couch as calmly as I could and went to the door without a word. Thankfully, our new recruit was no longer on the other side when I opened it.

"Wait a sec, where the hell you think you're goin'?"

I turned, making sure I showed her absolutely no reaction. "I did my part for our company. Now I'm going to do my part for myself." Her brow furrowed.

"Y'know, I'm not doing this just because Jerrica's a bitch and she's had it coming," Pizzazz stated. "I'm doing this for us. For all the Misfits, so we can live out our lives in the secure luxury we deserve, and show Riot and Eric just how powerful their former pee-on's can be. You're my friend, Stormer," she whined. "And now you're making like you're leaving the band again."

"Not the band," I replied simply. "Just the office."

Pizzazz gave an exaggerated sigh. "Okay. Fine. Go ahead and leave." She trilled, holding out the signed contract at arm's length to admire it. "If you insist on being such a Puritan about it, we'll have to celebrate without you."

"Sure wouldn't be the first time," I shot back, closing the door before she had a chance to respond. I clenched my fists, thrusting them into the pockets of my blazer as I headed for the parking garage and the sanctity of my little red Porsche.

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**Jerrica**

I chose not to confront Deirdre immediately upon our return from UCLA. Instead I held my own, pretending I knew nothing but simmering inside just the same. The urge to click on LinZ's show to check out our new video's status was overwhelming, but I managed to suppress it by delving into wedding preparations, mostly securing accomodations for all of the out-of-town guests (Aja had fervently insisted that Craig, Mason and the rest of the Bluebloods stay in the mansion's guest rooms, much to my amusement). Every so often, though, I'd notice Deirdre casting a worried look at me, only to immediately glance away if I met her eyes. I'd mentioned it to Rio at the rehearsal dinner, and he had looked almost as guilty as she had. He admitted to me that one of the engineers had cut a demo E.P. with her, but that was as much as he knew. Deirdre, Rio said, had done everything else by her own accord.

"I see," was all I had said.

With that, I had given in to the comfort of procrastination, finally working up my nerve to ask Deirdre into my study on the night before the wedding. She trembled visibly but otherwise showed no other signs of contrition. The two of us sat across from each other, carefully judging one another's reactions.

"I hear you've started to make a career for yourself," I began, and she nodded. I sat up straighter and coolly crossed my legs. "That's good, Deirdre. I admire your sense of ambition. It takes guts and a hard work ethic to accomplish what you have. I'm really very proud of you."

She seemed to relax a bit. "So you're not mad at me for accepting Pizzazz's offer?"

"Oh, honey, of course not. You know that Starlight Music will take good care of..." Suddenly my heart clenched up and I had to backpedal to make sure I hadn't heard what I thought I did. "Wait a moment. Deirdre, what did you say just now?"

The girl swallowed almost audibly, just like a cartoon cliche, and seemed to shrink in her seat. "You mean you haven't heard? No one's told you?"

"What did you _say_, Deirdre?" I hated how desperate my demand sounded.

"Jerrica, I've signed on with Misfits Music."

I leaned over and folded my arms on the desk. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the darkness behind my eyelids to soothe my anger. It took me a while before I could speak without resorting to base emotions. " I fail to understand why you felt the need to pursue this without telling me. It upsets me that you chose to sign with someone who you know will use you. Someone you know I despise."

One little muscle in her jaw quivered slightly. "I thought all that was over."

"It was for a little while, after I found out she helped name Eric as a suspect in...well, you know," I admitted with a tiny shudder. "But even then, our tolerance for each other was strained at best." That was only a half truth. I had wanted to let bygones be bygones, and until Pizzazz became antagonistic onstage at the last few shows of the tour, it seemed she had wanted to, as well. I wasn't a child; I could handle some good natured ribbing. But being good natured had never been a bright spot in Pizzazz's repertoire, and when she messed with my girls, neither had it been in mine.

"Oh, how could you go behind my back, Deirdre?" I suddenly blurted as those emotions got the better of me. "You know I would have listened! You know I would have given you a fair chance!"

Deirdre cringed, but recovered quickly from the verbal blow. "You know, Jerrica, I've been writing for months now. I would've played my stuff for you. But first it was the music awards and all the stuff that went down afterward. Then it was the tour. Now you're swamped with Lela and that wedding of yours, and you know what? I decided not to bother. For once, it was time to make my own decisions. I had to follow my gut instincts to achieve what I've always wanted.

"Look, I'm really sorry if you're insulted by my 'siding with the enemy'," she continued with a roll of her eyes as I all but glared at her, "But I still needed to do what was right for me! It doesn't mean you're not my mother! It doesn't mean that I don't love you!" Her voice trembled.

"I know that!" I almost yelled, then guiltily lowered my voice. "Deirdre, I know that. I know you're an adult now. I know you're very capable of making your own decisions. I just don't think I'll ever understand quite why you made this one." I sighed heavily and came around the desk to embrace her. "Promise me that you won't let Pizzazz or anyone else put you in a compromising position, okay? Because if they do, I can't help you. You'll have to fend for yourself."

I felt her body tense up in my arms. "Yeah, well, I always have, with or without you," she said tersely. I'd never heard her speak so coldly to me, and I stepped back a bit. Out in the hall, the ringing doorbell interrupted the tension.

"Mar!" We faintly heard Kimber exclaim. "Geez, what are you doing here? Are you all right?"

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**Stormer**

I fidgeted on the front step of Starlight Mansion, my stomach flip-flopping at the clear shock on Kimber's face, and then tightening into a little ball of tension when my brother appeared from behind her. I opened my mouth to speak, frozen by indecision. What was I thinking, coming here? Why is Craig here? And why, for the love of God, didn't I plan out what I was going to say once I showed up at the door?

"Mary!" Craig exclaimed, stepping in front of Kimber to take my hand. "Mary, what happened? Was it the Misfits? What did they do to you now?"

The tension ball in my stomach's pit twisted itself into pure aggravation. "Oh, geez, you're here too, Craig? Terrific. That's all I need now is your brotherly badgering." I snorted and pushed past him into the foyer, followed closely by Kimber, who took my purse and shut the door behind me.

"Mar? As in Mary Phillips, as in Stormer, as in _Misfit_?" The reedy snap of one of the more familiar foster girls rang out from somewhere down the hall adjacent to me, and I watched with detatched interest as Deirdre backed out of one of the rooms, shaking her head. "Unbelievable," she groused, shooting me a glare before stalking away. A startled Jerrica came out after her, stopping in her tracks once she spotted me. I tentatively raised my hand in greeting.

"Mar, come on in and sit down," Kimber said to me gently, leading me away before Jerrica responded. I perched on the edge of a black velvet ottoman, my nerves tight and ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. I'd had all I could take of that today. "I hope it's cool if I stay here for the night," I called out after Kimber as she retreated into the kitchen. "I know for sure I'm not welcome at the Gabor mansion tonight."

Frowning, Craig took a seat beside me. "So something _did_ happen with the Misfits."

I thought of the phone call I had made to Roxy on the way over. "Don't beat yourself up over her crap, Stormer," she'd reassured me, which was unusual for her. "You know what they say. It's not personal, it's just business, y'know?"

"No," I finally sighed, curling my knees underneath me. "Not all of them. Just Phyl - just Pizzazz."

He nodded mutely, and I couldn't help but repress a smile. Unconciously he was playing the part of my rock again, exuding that quiet strength of his. "So why are you here, anyway? Aja give you a long distance booty call?" I cracked, elbowing his ribs. Craig gave me a dirty look. "No, I'm here for the wedding, smartass." I'd completely forgotten about that. Was that tommorrow? God, I didn't even have anything to wear.

My brother's dirty look morphed into a lopsided grin, and I started to giggle. The sound died in my throat when Jerrica decided to wander in. I was the first to look away, folding my hands in my lap self-conciously.

"I tried to stop her," I blurted out. "I swear I did everything I could to prevent what happened, but nothing worked. Pizzazz made me stay to help convince Deirdre to sign with us." My words spilled out in a rushed confession, egged on by Jerrica's still intimidating presence. "Turns out she didn't need much convincing, thanks to Pizzazz's sweettalking. I tried to preserve the truce, and failed miserably. I'm sorry."

Jerrica exhaled slowly and sat across from us, accepting a steaming mug Kimber offered her from a loaded tray. "That's all right, Stormer," she said wearily as she took a sip and winced. "There wasn't much of a truce to begin with, was there?"

Maybe fatigue was clouding my judgement, but her question felt like an insult to me. Hastily I took a mug from Kimber's tray and gazed at the boiling liquid to keep from bursting into tears. "Aw, Mar, don't worry about it!" Kimber crooned, sitting on the opposite side of me and draping her arm over my shoulder. "You've always got a home with us!"

Out of the corner of my watering eye, I caught the glare she was directing at Jerrica, who looked away almost guiltily. "You're welcome to stay the night in Kimber's room if you want, Stormer," She offered, resulting in Kimber's satisfied nod. "Thank you," I replied politely, and held a fist to my mouth to stifle a yawn. "I really could use some sleep."

"We all could," Jerrica said with a nervous glance at her watch. Bidding us goodnight, she retreated hastily, stopping only to retrieve her tea before dissappearing into the hall. Craig stood up and stretched languidly. "I guess I should get to bed too." He paused to plant a platonic kiss on the top of my head. "You're okay, right, Mary?"

I smiled and touched his forearm. "Yeah, I'm fine. Go to bed. Aja's gonna wonder where you've been all night."

"Oh, har, har, very amusing," Craig retorted good-naturedly as he shuffled off. Kimber and I laughed at him, shifting closer to each other on the warm spot he left behind.

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**Jerrica**

Hiking the pristine white material above my ankles as I ran, I whipped my head around to shout at my sister. "Come on! Rio's been here since dawn and the other girls are already getting their dresses on!"

Kimber's feet pounded on the wooden planks of the marina after me. "Well excuse me, miss 'I need my beauty sleep!' Y'know, Mar and I went to bed a lot later than you but _we_ were up in time!"

I ignored her, reaching for the metal railing and hoisting myself up onto the descending stairway, then turning to help Kimber up with a grunt. Together we hurried up the steps and through the claustrophobic hallway leading to the deck, where Danielle stood waiting.

I stopped in my tracks, briefly overwhelmed by the lavish decorations of Mr. Alonso's white orchids sprawling around the railings and dripping over the archway erected over the aisle. For some reason it finally struck me then; I was getting married today. Rio and I were finally becoming husband and wife. But the thought was whisked away by Danielle's anxious demeanor and her hand leading me by the small of my back towards her quarters. "Almost all the guests have already arrived and are still waiting in the lounge!" She practically cried. "Don't worry, Countess, we'll be ready in no time," I assured her, gently touching her hand.

"Well, good, because that's about all the time you have left," She said wryly.

Everyone glanced up as the door opened to the makeshift dressing room. Aja, Danse, and Shana were already clad in their hand-me-down light pink gowns left over from Kimber's marriage attempt. Danse was helping Raya balance precariously on a stool with arms held aloft, waiting patiently as Shana made the last revisions to her now maternity-friendly bridesmaid dress. They all grinned knowingly as we stumbled inside.

"Sorry we're late, everyone," I said breathlessly, plunking down beside Kimber at the makeup table. "For your own wedding?" Shana asked, biting off a stray thread from the needle and straightening up.

"Hey, it's not my fault one of our own decided to sign with the enemy the day before my wedding!" I protested as I fumbled with my lipstick. Kimber shot me a look, and instead of launching another argument, the two of us cracked up laughing. "Here, let me help you with that makeup," Shana offered, and I turned around in the chair. "No, no, you're all ready and so are our guests. Just get out there and take your places. Kimber and I will be out in two seconds."

"Better make it one," Aja quipped. "I talked to Craig, and he says Rio's practically chomping at the bit."

I couldn't help but laugh, imagining my boyfriend pacing himself a rut in the cabin floor. "Okay, one second it is. Quick, go, before anyone gets cold feet!" Everyone laughed and exited the room with a flourish of excited noise as Kimber produced a tiny jewelery box from inside her bra.

"Kimber!" I exclaimed, snatching it away from her. "Why on earth did you have to keep it in _there_?"

"It was the only place it wouldn't get lost!" She insisted, smiling. I rolled my eyes and tried to concentrate on slipping the new Jemstar earring through my freshly healed earlobe. My fingers slipped, poking my face with the wire a couple of times before hitting the mark. I gasped as a sharp pain pierced my skin. I tried it quite a few times, growing more frustrated with every painful attempt. Finally I tossed it angrily onto the table, trying not to burst into tears. So far the day was just going swimmingly.

"Oh, sis," Kimber clucked, reaching behind her to unhook her chain necklace. "Don't sweat it. Just lace them both through this." I held still as she fastenened it behind my neck, then slipped the offending earring through one of the tiny links. She waited as I did the same with it's older, more sentimentally valued mate.

Dubiously, I observed my reflection in the makeup mirror. "You think that will work?"

"Only one way to find out."

I pursed my lips and cradled both the earrings in my palm. "Showtime, Synergy." A white light flashed in my eyes, and instinctively I shielded them. "Oh, Jerrica!" Kimber cried. "Open your eyes, it's outrageous!"

She wasn't kidding; the dress I'd had commissioned last minute was pretty enough, a ruffled pure white concotion that suited the Jerrica in me, but that little nuance I had named Jem wanted more. Well, now she had it. My image positively glowed with a golden sheen from gossamer strands hidden in the "fibers" of the dress, accentuated by long flowing locks of blonde hair and a veil so thin its presence was barely a shimmer. I stared at myself, tears in my eyes.

"What's wrong?"

I couldn't tear myself away from the mirror to look at her. "Look at it," I warbled, dabbing at my eyes. "Look at what Synergy's done for me. I can't believe this is happening and Mom and Dad are missing it. There's no one to walk me down the aisle. No one to be Rio's in-laws. No one to be _my _in-laws. I can't believe it didn't occur to me sooner." Finally I was able to meet Kimber's sad blue eyes. "What am I going to do?"

Kimber thought for a moment, then grinned. "Well, for one, I'm here to walk you down the aisle, silly. You were going to do the same for me, I thought I'd return the favor. And as for Mom and Dad..." She bent to rummage in her purse and produced a familiar picture frame. "I reserved them a seat." She touched her forehead to mine gently. "Now take a deep breath."

I did so. "You're gonna do great," Kimber whispered, and I knew she was trying her hardest not to choke up. "So are you," I told her, giving her a squeeze before the two of us left the room arm in arm.

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**Riot**

Minx clucked her tongue, letting the small white curtain fall back over the porthole. "It's so mundane," she scoffed, turning her head to look at me. "Honestly, Rory, I've never been so bored in all my life."

"Wait for it, Minx," I told her, straightening the specially made formalwear my associate and good friend Yaki had been kind enough to create for me. "The anticipation heightens the climax." She smirked and went back to watching the guests filing onto the yacht. "Ugh, no originality at all! White, pure white, everywhere you look." Her dark eyes glinted at me from her reflection in my mirror. "It is almost misleading in a sense, no?" Across the room, Rapture joined her in a salacious giggle.

"No," I replied sharply, taking offense to her implications. "You are my heart, but _she_ - " I could not help but sigh like some lovestruck schoolboy. " - is the love of my life. I won't have you constantly sullying her image for me."

Those dark eyes rolled and continued their voyeurism. "Do we absolutely have to watch from in here?"

Irritated, I gently pushed her aside to watch, and wait, for the cue. "You will relax and do as you're told." I all but snarled. "Don't say another word. I'm not going to inform you again of the imperativeness of this operation, understand?"

Mutely, Minx and Rapture curled up beside one another on the king size featherbed, obeying my commands as young things would to a guardian. I hid my smile from them as I turned to the porthole, eyeing the situation with a growing excitement that suffused heat through my heart and loins. This is the end, I imagined myself saying to Rio. This is your end, and my beginning.

He would know his true place by the end of the night. Nothing could sway me into believing otherwise.

TBC


	5. To Have and To Hold

**-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

_Disclaimer: As usual, all characters are property of Hasbro/Sony Wonder 1985-2006, and not me. Discretion advised for some slightly mature content._

_A/N: The Stingers' contribution to Rio and Jerrica's matrimonial bliss was inspired by the song "Sunspots" by Nine Inch Nails. Alternately, the Bluebloods' contribution was inspired by the song "Love Of A Lifetime" by Firehouse. The lyrics are my own. No outright plaigarism has been involved or intended, hence my using the term "inspired by"._

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**Rio**

Anthony, Sean, Jeff and Craig all muffled their sympathetic laughter as I straightened my gold jacket self-conciously. My eyes darted back and forth across the crowded deck in a vain search for any sign of Jerrica, of familiarity. I tried my damnedest not to let my churning stomach get the better of me, though the constant humming of papparazzi helicopters circling directly above the Countess' yacht was definitely not helping.

"C'mon, what's eatin' you, Rio?" Jeff slapped a friendly hand on my back, startling me so badly I almost spun around and decked him. "Wedding day jitters getting you down?"

I took a moment to close my eyes before replying. "I'm fine."

More muffled laughter. "Sure, you're fine. You're shaking like a leaf and jumping at the slightest sound, but you're fine. Likely story, my friend."

I turned my head slightly to look at him. "Yeah, I guess yours must have been pretty bad, considering you didn't even make it through the entire wedding day."

"Ooh!" Craig and Anthony crowed in unison, cringing at the pointed barb. Sean, tellingly, kept his mouth shut, but I saw him trying to hide his amusement. Jeff glared at me. "Nice."

"Eye for an eye, Wright." I punched him gently in the arm to show him I was kidding. "No offense." His eyes rolled, but a grin was trying to break across his face. "Yeah, none taken." Jeff paused for a beat, then added, "Asshole."

All of us cracked up at that, laughing harder behind clenched fists when some of the guests turned to stare at five grown men snickering like teenage boys. I felt the muscles in my shoulders begin to relax from the release.

Finally, there was a loud bustling sound coming from a corner of the yacht hidden from view. A harried Kimber darted out into the aisle, hesitating only to place a well loved photograph of Emmett and Jacqui on the lone empty chair at the end of the front row before retreating below deck. Aja, Danse, Shana, and Raya all spilled out the moment Kimber dissappeared, giggling as they hurried to take their places at the altar. I think my heart finally started to beat again once I saw them, reassuring the rest of my body with the fresh flow of blood. _Now,_ my blood whispered to me, _it's going to happen now. _

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Video's head lifting slightly from her tripod-erected camcorder, signaling to Mason and James across the way. Both men nodded solemnly and reached for their acoustic guitars. At the first sparkling notes of the Wedding March, all of my senses came alive. An excited buzz reverberated through the crowd, and for that one moment time and everything else stopped completely.

Basket of petals in hand, Terri appeared first, showering the basket's contents daintily before her as she pranced along, clearly happy just to have a prominent role in all of this. I watched in awe as my golden bride emerged at the opposite end of the red carpet with Kimber at her side, a stunning vision of everything I'd ever loved about her. Jerrica smiled at me from underneath her glimmering veil, clutching the bouquet of white orchids to her waist nervously, and I smiled back as if to disarm her. Memories of the life we'd shared together were flooding my mind's eye, most likely triggered by the otherworldly sheen of gold to her dress, or the extended flowing locks that obviously came compliments of Synergy. It was a a sly tribute to her days as Jem, and a slight reminder of the pain we'd both endured as a result, but it didn't take away from the warmth and the devotion that overwhelmed me now.

The music stopped. She and Kimber shared a look of longing and release, embracing each other heartily. I was sure I heard a muffled sob from one of them, maybe both. They lingered together for a moment before Kimber finally stepped away, wiping at her eyes. Jerrica placed her white gloved hand in mine, allowing me at long last to lead her to my side at the altar. The captain smiled down at us.

"Dearly beloved," the bearded man began in a warm voice worn gravelly from years at sea, "we are gathered here today to join these two loving people in holy matrimony."

The voice of gravel became an echo to me as Jerrica and I gazed at one another, silently vulnerable. I felt as if I was sinking like stone, and as cliche as it sounded, this was my way of being born again. Without her as my inspiration, I never would have come as far as I had in life. She had always been my true family, the center of gravity that kept me grounded all these years, and as her ocean colored eyes stared into mine, I promised both of us that I would always do the same for her.

To the right of me, Sean dug into his jacket pocket, shortly producing two black jewelry boxes. Blinking back fresh tears, Jerrica slipped my matrimonial band onto my finger, and I kissed her hand before doing the same with her little diamond ring. Our audience watched the scene in nearly supernatural silence.

"I do," I said aloud to the preposterous question of whether or not I would take Jerrica to be my wife. She appeared almost flustered when the captain directed the question at her, suppressing a giggle and looking at the floor. "Yes," Jerrica announced finally, her eyes dancing as they met the captain's again. "Yes, I do."

"Then by the power invested in me by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife," our good captain announced with obvious pride. I barely even heard him give permission before Jerrica was swept up in my arms, almost bent backwards from the force of my kiss. She was taken aback only for a split second before throwing her arms around my neck in heated response.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Rio Pacheco!"

All of the guests erupted in ecstatic cheers, but much like our reunion in Le Klub, the roar died away in my ears and all I was aware of was Jerrica's embrace. Tiny pellets rained down upon my neck and shoulders, finally prompting us to seperate from each other. Together we ducked through the barrage of joyously thrown rice until I managed to hide us both in a niche behind the entranceway. My new wife beamed at me, panting and glowing. My wife, I repeated to myself as I stared at her, trying to get the notion to sink in. My wife.

"I love you, Mrs. Pacheco," I blurted out, overcome with emotion. Jerrica gave a tender laugh and brushed some rice out of my hair. "I love you too," she answered, no longer keeping her tears at bay. My smile melted to hers as we kissed again, male and female energies fusing together infinitely while the happy chaos continued on only a few feet away.

"Rio, you old dog, you!" James suddenly barked, harshly interrupting our moment. Grinning, he clapped a large hand on my shoulder repeatedly while the rest of the Bluebloods and the Holograms came tumbling into the hallway after him. "Come on, then, plenty of time for that later! Y'want to help us set up in the ballroom?"

I glared at him, still breathless with passion, but a laughing Jerrica lay her hand on my chest. "He's right," she whispered in my ear, letting her gentle innuendo speak for itself. "Go on, play with your friends," Jerrica teased, giving me a playful shove in James' direction. "Just be sure to meet me in Danielle's quarters in twenty!"

Even as I was being dragged away by my sleeve into the ballroom, my eyes stayed glued to her. "I'll be there!" I called back, watching as Jerrica's friends and family closed in around her, consequently blocking my view.

"Sorry about that, mate," Mason said to me when James drifted out of earshot. "Our boy there never did have much use for tact. I hope we didn't interrupt anything _too_ serious."

"Nothing that shouldn't be done in public," I replied, pushing the ballroom door open. Mason started to laugh, but the sound gave way to a murmur of confusion upon entering the room. "Well now, what's this? I thought I told the Countess that we would set up ourselves?"

He wasn't kidding. Strangely enough, someone apparently had saved us the trouble of unloading all of the Bluebloods' gear and my own lighting equipment, constructing it all into an elaborate stage setup complete with luxurious red velvet drapes surrounding the perimeter. For a second, all of us completely gaped at the thing.

"Funny," James replied with a shrug, "but quite nice of the Countess nonetheless." He bounded up the steps and slung his guitar over his shoulder. "Shall we, boys?"

"Wait a second, there's no drum set," Craig interjected, frowning. "Something's not right here." I noticed, too, and he and I immediately exchanged glances.

Mason rolled his eyes. "Blimey, Craig, is there nothing that doesn't work you up? Relax, we'll just set your kit up like usual." No sooner did he speak those words than Danielle and Regine entered the room, chatting amiably with Astral and Mrs. Farnsworth right behind them. More of the guests quickly followed suit, leaving no more room for argument. Together we struggled to unpack and assemble Craig's kit in time while glancing up nervously at each person that entered as we did. The strange occurence had been all but forgotten by the time I was supposed to meet Jerrica in the Countess' cabin, although as I left the room, I noticed Craig was still wearing that frown.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Jerrica**

The throbbing strains of "Celebration" filled the tiny hallway as Kimber and Sean pushed through the double doors into the ballroom. They were the last couple in our wedding party to be introduced, leaving Rio and I waiting for our cue. I couldn't help but grin at him as I laced my fingers between his. "Ready?"

My answer was a rather alluring hint of a smile before he leaned in to kiss me, softly and slowly, intentionally lingering on my lips. "Stop it," I whispered against his mouth before it met mine again. "Everyone's waiting for us."

"Let them wait," he responded with a laugh, and in my mind I was suddenly being pressed against a recording console, feeling his weight gently overpowering me.

"Rio!" I broke the kiss quickly at the titillating memory and pushed him away. "Come on, I mean it! We can't just be caught groping each other in the hallway like teenagers!"

His hand enveloped mine again. "All right, all right, I give. I'm ready." I raised an eyebrow at him, not quite believing him. Rio's eyes widened as he laughed again. "Really! I'll be good, I promise." Mockingly, he put his other hand over his heart and assumed a military stance. "Scouts' honor."

"...And now, it is my extreme pleasure to introduce to the world Mr. and Mrs. Rio Pacheco!" Countess DuVoisin's lilting declaration reverberated through the wall, prompting everyone inside to applaud wildly. That was our signal. "Come on, Boy Scout, let's go."

"No, no, wait a second." Before I knew it, I was literally swept off my feet and hoisted into Rio's arms to carry me over the threshold. Too surprised to voice any protest but a sharp girlish squeal, I could do nothing but hang on to my husband's neck as he pushed us both through the doors into the melee, and everyone jumped to their feet.

Laughter started to percolate through the applause, especially from the elongated white table at the center of the room. Danse and Raya had spotted us first and were already doubling over in hysterics. From one side of the stage, the corner of my eye caught Video trying not to laugh as she delicately aimed her camera our way. Kimber, Shana and Aja still hadn't noticed, but of course, it didn't take them long to catch on.

"Oh my God!"

"What is he _doing_?"

"She's going to kill him!" That was unmistakably Kimber's exclamation, followed by hers and Aja's laughter. Grinning, Rio paused at our two empty chairs, as if to purposely draw out this mortifying joke. "Rio!" I hissed. "For the love of God, put me _down!_"

His eyes gleamed with mischief. "You're the boss," Rio announced, dropping me as gently as possible into my seat. The percolating laughter merged into applause again as I shot him a withering look. "You're insane, you know that?" I told him, straightening my dress in an attempt to hide my embarrassment. Rio's only response was to reach for me again, kissing me like he had in the hallway right in front of everybody. When we finally seperated to the sounds of silverware clinking against champagne glasses, any animosity I'd felt had completely melted away. I felt so light, like I'd evaporated into thin air. His mischievous grin had softened into an expression of fufillment I knew all too well, and I smiled. Now I remembered why I married this man; only he could loosen the inhibitions I'd held dear my whole life, and I loved him so much for it.

"I believe a congratulations is in order, darlings!" Beaming, Danielle glided up to the table, her arms open wide with jubiliation. "The ceremony was beautiful! Everything is a complete success, and the two of you look _so_ happy together! Oh, I'm so happy for you both!"

I smiled, from both her compliments and the way Rio raised his eyebrows at them. "We owe all of it to you, Countess. You provided everything and made it possible."

"Ah, but you and Rio are the reason for it all," Danielle crooned. "There was never any doubt in my mind that you were a special couple, the kind that are destined for each other. I knew it from the second I met you both." She clasped her hands together with a dreamy sigh and then leaned over to whisper in my ear. "You need only say the word, Jerrica, and the key to my quarters is yours."

Startled, I wanted to protest, but the good Countess clearly wasn't taking no for an answer. "_L'amour n'attend pas, Jerrica,_" she said to me, slightly frowning. "Love doesn't wait." The key was discreetly pressed into my palm for emphasis. I exhaled slowly and nodded my gratitude. There was no point in arguing, although her sudden emphasis on sex made a part of me wonder if people were anticipating a conception tonight. I stifled a giggle at the idea and thanked Danielle again, watching as she strolled away with a satisfied smile.

"What's so funny?" Rio asked, and I waved my hand dismissively. "Never mind," I said, enjoying the amused confusion on his face. "Trust me, I think you're better off not knowing."

With that, Mason and the Bluebloods launched into their first song of the night. While dinner was served, most of the friends we considered family - LinZ, Joanie, Howard Sands, Richard Zanthos, Mrs. Farnsworth, Astral, everyone from the Jam, Regine, and a vast array of others, including many Starlight Music employees - came up to the table to congratulate us as well before finishing their meals and heading to the dance floor. Predictably, Kimber and Sean followed suit, but the rest of the wedding party stayed right at the table with Rio and I, and I was grateful for their company. The sun began to set as the dishes were swiftly cleared away, casting the room's interior in a gorgeous shade of orange. Rio's hand clasped mine underneath the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. I squeezed his back.

The cake was cut, and Rio and I stayed in that position long enough to let every guest take a picture of us. After that stunt he pulled on our way in, I was hoping - no, praying - that Rio wouldn't decide to take advantage of the pose to smush the cake in my face. Thankfully we managed to feed each other the first slice without so much as dropping a crumb, and I whispered my gratitude in his ear. I guessed he knew me well enough to allow me to keep a few of my inhibitions intact.

As I took a casual sip of champagne, I peered over the edge of the glass at a strikingly familiar young lady leaning over a chair and chatting it up with everyone at the Starlight Girls' table. She seemed much too tall to be anywhere near their ages, but the glossy waterfall of black hair that adorned her set off bells in my mind nonetheless. The girl glanced up suddenly, meeting my eyes by accident, and once she did there was no question as to who she was.

"Ba Nee, you came!" I cried out, practically leaping over the table as she ran to embrace me. "Oh, honey, you don't know how good it feels to see you again!"

"Of course I came!" Ba Nee exclaimed in my ear, throwing her arms around my neck. "Martin came, too. Congratulations, you guys! The wedding was beautiful, and you look absolutely gorgeous."

Pausing to give a quick wave to Martin across the room, I drew back and held her at arm's length. Clearly, the precocious ten year old I used to know had shot up in height and filled out considerably from two years' worth of hormonal changes, turning her into a full-fledged teenager seemingly overnight. "All my girls are growing up and growing away from me" I lamented. "Everything's changing so fast."

As irrepressible as ever, Ba Nee only laughed. "It's okay, Jerrica," She said, patting my arm. "Hey, change isn't a bad thing, right? Look at all the good that's come out of it." Ba Nee gestured to the celebrating crowd and nodded slyly towards Rio. I had to smile, knowing she was right. I was so proud of her for becoming such a thoughtful, well rounded young woman. Letting her live with Martin and giving him custody was definitely the right decision.

"Come on, Neenee!" Ashley shouted from the periphery, while Christie beckoned rather impatiently beside her. "She has to throw the bouquet _sometime_ today!"

Realizing I had almost forgotten that part, I gave Ba Nee one more reluctant hug and snatched the bundle of orchids from the table. "I won't be a stranger!" She called out as Ashley and Christie practically dragged her into the center of the dance floor. "You'd better not be!" I answered as I hiked up my skirt and ran up the stairs to the stage.

Craig winked at me from behind his faithful kit as I positioned myself, turning my back to the crowd of single women. He struck up the drumroll, and I dutifully flung the unsuspecting bouquet into the seething mass. After a great clamor of high heels and excited shouts, a jubilant squeal went up from the victor. I turned to see Raya holding the rumpled orchids aloft, blushing deep red when she saw how startled Luis looked. All the groomsmen exchanged uneasy glances, and I giggled, knowing they had to let him catch my garter or else catch their death by his hand. The next thing I knew, Raya was perched on a chair in the center of the dance floor, trying desperately to suppress her embarrassment while Luis hiked the garter triumphantly up the length of her leg...with his teeth. She burst out laughing when he reached her inner thigh, forcing him to come up and kiss her before Luis himself died at her father's hand. Uproarious laughter and applause ensued.

"All right, all right then!" Mason announced, still chuckling. "The lot of you, lovebirds and all, get off of this floor so the Pachecos can have their first proper dance as man and wife!"

Sure enough, there was my husband waiting for me at the foot of the stairs, holding his hand out to me as the band segued into a gentle swirl of a melody. "We wrote this one especially for the two of you," Mason continued over the music. "Congratulations, Rio and Jerrica, on the love you found together in the past and the lives you'll enrich together in the future."

Everyone on the dance floor parted and formed an open circle that Rio lovingly led me into by the small of my back. Happily, I nestled my head in the warm crook of his neck as we swayed together to the tingling strains of Mason's acoustic guitar. At some level I was aware that he was singing and that the melody thickened into a beat at the urging of Craig's drums, but I was lost in this moment, in the heaven that was Rio's arms. I felt the love and the hope that our dearest friends and family radiated around us, and nothing else mattered to me.

_"All my life I've wondered_

_and now I clearly see_

_An end to my delusions_

_and now we two are free..._

_I know you are my love for a lifetime_

_This love will last our whole lives through..."_

Something else must have mattered to Rio, though, because I started to feel him repressing a laugh halfway through the song. I tried ignoring him, but around the time James got to his soaring display of a guitar solo Rio's snickering was unavoidable. Vaguely annoyed, I squinted up at him.

"Didn't you listen to the song before you agreed to let them play it?" He whispered in my ear, only half joking. "I think it's...pretty," I replied lamely, trying hard not to laugh. "Besides, their hearts are in the right place."

Just then James' solo squealed to a climax and pushed the chorus into a whole new key altogether, giving the song a hugely anthemic quality. Mason always belted it out like a pro, but it appeared he was putting everything he had into this performance - maybe too much.

_"Forever in my heart...you'll always be my love for a lifetime..."_

Both of us winced at his repeated attempts at a drawn-out high note as the last chorus, and the song, crumbled to a close. I could see Aja a few feet away, shaking her head ruefully. Everyone else seemed to love it, though, roaring in approval as the five men stood up together with triumphant grins on their faces.

"I guess if they ever record it, it'll be a big hit," I mused, and Rio laughed. "If they ever record it, God help us all. Yeesh, stick to the mid-tempo rockers, guys, please!"

I laughed too, but not without giving him a slap on the arm. "Rio, they're your friends!"

"Friends don't let friends write cheesy power ballads, honey."

"Thank you!" Mason was crowing over the din. "We're gonna take a short break now to take advantage of some of that gourmet cooking the Countess is so fond of, but we'll be back to rock this party in no time, hear?" Another hearty spatter of applause greeted his announcement, and Rio and I started returning to the table while the rest of the band prepared to exit the stage.

"No need for them to wait," a voice suddenly purred from the shadows, startling Mason and eliciting confused murmurs within the crowd.

I had always thought the phrase "my heart dropped to my stomach" was only that, a phrase, but what I saw next put that theory completely to rest. Emerging from behind those blood-red curtains stepped three of the world's most pretentious rock stars, decked out in the most innappropriate black vinyl costumes I had ever laid eyes on. Sporadic squeals of recognition could be heard from a few female attendees near the back of the ballroom, but for the most part everyone here seemed as shellshocked by the Stingers' sudden appearance as I was.

Predictably, that didn't matter worth a damn to Riot. With a nod of his head at some unseen operator, the stage lights dimmed and shed a deep shade of red on all three intruders as they accosted the instruments that the Bluebloods had left behind.

"What in blazes are you doing, man?" I heard Mason exclaim from the foot of the stage. He seemed more than ready to climb back up and give Riot a piece of his mind, but to my total surprise, Danielle of all people stepped forward to whisper assuagements in his ear.

"Jerrica," Rio was saying to me slowly, his eyes narrowing. "What is going on here?"

I could do nothing but stare at the tall, chiseled frontman now commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Admittedly, I _had _sent an invitation to Riot only for old times sake, and Rio had been told about it. But neither of us thought for a moment that he'd actually show up, much less bring his two uninvited groupies and upstage my wedding like this!

"I don't know what's going on, Rio," I answered in a hollow-sounding voice as I reached for his arm to steady myself. "All I did was send him an invitation. I never asked for any of this."

Deep, repetitive drumbeats began to resonate from Minx's keyboard through the speakers. A sinister bassline from Rapture nodded right along beside them, instilling a sense of dread inside me that vibrated to the beat. "Our most heartfelt congratulations to you both," Riot intoned, taking a long moment to sardonically smile in my direction before stepping up to the microphone. My stomach quivered as his mouth opened to sing.

"_These thoughts burn star-shaped holes in my mind_

_You make me realize I'm alive_

_You felt this coming and you had to get out of the way _

_Banished the demons that kept hounding you, melting away_

_All the longings that you held for me then and still do_

_I know you do_

_You turn me on_

_You've made me real_

_And I won't apologize for the way I feel..."_

I shook my head, trying to clear it. This wasn't happening. This definitely could not be happening. Riot was not on that stage right now crooning out erotically charged lyrics clearly intended to upset myself and my husband, not to that obscene melody, not here at my reception of all places. Feeling extremely out of sync, I watched helplessly as he stood motionless behind the microphone stand, his eyes closed in an expression close to ecstasy.

_"These thoughts, they play a game with your mind_

_Why in the name of God would I ever let go of the one thing that's warmed me inside?_

_Once this is done all the ploys for your love will come through_

_Once this is done I'll have nothing and no one but you_

_I've said it once and now I'll say it again_

_I'm for you, just for you_

_Have I turned you on?_

_Have I made this real?_

_You don't have to apologize for the way you feel..."_

The guitar's distortion thickened ominously, with the bass and drums building behind it until the song absolutely exploded in a cacophony of lust. Riot slung his instrument behind him violently, gripped the microphone and all but shouted into it.

"_No, nothing can stop me now_

_There is nothing to fear_

_It's you l will forever want_

_I know that much is clear."_

Every word stung, and my grip on Rio's arm tightened. The muscles under the fabric clenched and released, clenched and released. I looked up into his face; it was unreadable, but he was undeniably angry. There was a long uncomfortable silence from Riot's guitar while Minx's awful screech of a melody continued to nudge away at my nerves. Rapture's bass kicked in once more, and just when things couldn't possibly get worse, all three of them joined their vocal forces to slam the message home.

"_Now that we both have come this far_

_I'll set you straight to heal your scars_

_Said he loved you for what you are_

_But you know all he ever saw was _

_stars..."_

Riot dropped to his knees melodramatically as he belt out that last word, letting the note fade slowly into the thick groove. Finally, the song thundered to a close and a stunned but polite spatter of applause followed. I closed my eyes, fighting the wave of dizziness that threatened to pull me under.

"I think I need to sit down," I said, more to myself than to Rio. "Me too," he agreed with ice in his voice, then led me back to the table almost gingerly, as if he were suddenly afraid I would break like cheap bridal registry china.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Stormer**

"Right," Mason drawled into the mic, watching with suspicion as the three uninvited performers sought out an empty table and assembled themselves around it arrogantly. "Next time you lot try something like that, don't do it with our instruments, please. It isn't appreciated by any of us." Riot barely smirked at the remark.

Typical, I thought, rolling my eyes at the Stingers' audacity, but the uncomfortable thought occurred to me that the Misfits were once twice as bad as any of those three European sex objects. From across the table, Mrs. Bailey leaned closer to Jerrica's secretary. "Oh, my. Well, that was certainly an...interesting performance, wasn't it, Joan?"

The elegant blonde scowled in agreement. "'Interesting' wasn't quite the word I was thinking of, Irene, but it'll do in mixed company." Both women grunted softly to each other. I shook my head and took a long slurp of my soda just as a breathless, glowing Kimber came rushing up to my side of the table and plopped herself into the seat next to mine. Against my better judgement, I shot her a curious glance. She grinned.

"Mar, oh my gosh, you'll _never_ guess what just happened!"

"Kimber, we all just watched the whole freaking thing."

Ever the perceptive one, my friend cocked her head inquisitively. "What, the Stingers? What's so amazing about that? I could've sworn Jerrica said she had invited them to perform."

"I don't know. She looks pretty shaken up, if you ask me."

Kimber's eyes flicked nervously in her sister's direction, scrutinizing her for any signs of distress. Obviously not detecting any, she snorted, tossing her flame colored hair over one shoulder. "She looks fine to me, Mar. Besides, Riot's just being a showoff, as usual. Nothing we haven't seen before, am I right?"

I didn't know how to respond, so I just nodded as she kept talking. Apparently she and Jeff Wright had just reunited, awkwardly, for the first time since their botched attempt at marriage. "Sean wasn't with me, thank God," Kimber gushed, "but he was sure keeping a sharp eye on us from across the floor! Anyways, I felt really bad about things. Jeff's always been such a good guy, with a big heart, and it wasn't fair to him how everything turned out between us. You could tell he still had some lingering hurt, you know?" I nodded my head again, absently thinking of Pizzazz.

Kimber looked around, then leaned in conspiratorially. "So as luck would have it, Astral comes strolling by at that exact moment, and I had a flash of inspiration!"

"You introduced them," I inferred dryly. Beaming, Kimber nodded. "You should've seen how his eyes just lit up when he saw her, Mar! It was so obvious he was taken with her, like, immediately."

"What did Astral do?"

Kimber stifled a giggle. "She didn't know _what_ to do! I think I kind of startled her, and I know Jeff did, coming on so strong like that, but look." She pointed a pink fingernail towards a dimly lit corner of the room, where Jeff and Astral were huddled together, engrossed in what looked like very intimate conversation. "I think she likes him, what do you think?"

"I barely know either of them!" I protested, laughing. "How would I know?" Kimber flushed in embarrassment, but soon ended up giggling right along with me. After we'd sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, I turned to peer at my friend. "Hey, you don't regret it, do you? Being with Sean instead of Jeff?"

My question almost seemed to shock her. There was a long pause while Kimber carefully pondered her answer. "It was the right choice to make, at a really weird time to make it," she said. "That whole wedding thing finally made it clear who I was really meant to be with. And now that I'm officially off the hook, it also makes me need a drink." With that, my friend excused herself to head for the open bar, and I took the opportunity to step outside for some fresh air.

It was a beautiful evening, I had to say. I watched the moonlight reflect off the ripples the yacht left behind in it's slow wake, and deeply inhaled the tangy scent of the Pacific. I tried to banish all the nagging thoughts of Pizzazz's weird behavior and the deteriorating relationship between all of us Misfits as a result, but my mind just wouldn't allow me that luxury tonight. Settling myself into a lounge chair, I casually glimpsed at the party going on without me through the huge French window before resting my eyes.

It took a few moments to register, but once I realized what I had seen, I couldn't help but bolt upright in the chair to see it again. "What in the hell..."

The odd movement that caught my eye turned out to be Minx, slithering up to Rio and Jerrica's deserted table in a crawling position. Unaware she was being watched, her dark eyes darted around for signs of intrusion before pausing to fish something out from her impossibly tight leather bodice. My blood froze as she produced a small brown vial and proceeded to empty a white powder into what appeared to be Rio's glass of champagne while saving the last of it for Jerrica's glass. One more stealthy dart of the eyes, and she was gone, dissappearing on her hands and knees under the table before emerging and strutting confidently back into the crowd of revelers.

I could barely breathe. Who knew what was in that vial? God, it could even be lethal - although I had to admit not even the Stingers were that low. At least I prayed over and over again that they weren't, as I ran back around to the ballroom entrance to find Kimber.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Rio**

Bright flashes of red obscured my vision, making my pulse pound, and I tried very hard to slow the angry surging of my blood. Maybe she had invited him out of pity. Maybe all the three ways and free cocaine had affected his logical thinking skills over the years and he'd thought "you are cordially invited" meant "please, upstage our wedding with some kinky industrial dirge and oh, do remember to bring those bimbos of yours along, will you?"

Maybe I was kidding myself so I wouldn't lunge at the man and snap his neck.

I looked at Jerrica, who was shaking her head with tears in her eyes. "I had no idea he would do this, I swear it." I nodded, taking her hand and kissing it, then leaning in to kiss her, opening my mouth against hers slightly. "I know that," I whispered, and felt her sigh with relief.

Protectively clutching Jerrica's hand, I watched as those same bimbos strolled casually up to us, sadistic smiles virtually painted onto their faces. "Oh, don't the two of you just look _so_ happy together," Minx crooned, leaning over so her cleavage presented itself to me. "I just _know_ you'll be together forever."

Rapture didn't even bother stifling a loud giggle. "Yes, of course. Together forever." Her eyes narrowed into little devious slits. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Pacheco," she purred maliciously before sidling up to Raya and Luis' end of the table. "And my most heartfelt congratulations to you, too, Carmen and Luis, on your unexpected 'blessing'."

Raya noticeably stiffened at the remark, leaning closer to Luis and fixing Rapture with an almost terrifying scowl. "Oh, isn't that _kind_ of you, Rapture! Why, it's all the more touching coming from a heartless strumpet like you who prostitutes herself to the world and calls it being a 'musician'."

Rapture's eyes flared. Minx flocked to her side immediately to prevent the woman from lunging at our pregnant drummer, whispering something in her bandmate's ear as security threatened to close in on them. Shooting a vile look at Raya, Rapture silently acquiesced and allowed herself to be led away. "_¡Perra!_" Raya sneered, wholeheartedly returning Rapture's glare. "What does she know from blessings?"

"You'll be sorry," Rapture suddenly seethed, loud enough for us to hear. "There is no escape from pain! And we _will_ cause you pain!" At that, her almighty pimp stood up and strode across the floor to rein her in, angrily murmuring something that instantly caused Rapture's hellcat demeanor shift into that of a helpless child as he pulled her by the sleeve back to their stolen table.

Shana sat back in her chair and gaped at Raya, incredulous. "Girl, you've got a vicious mouth on you, you know that?"

Raya smirked. "I've always hated that woman, and I'm certainly not afraid to say so to her face." Luis let out a hearty burst of laughter and kissed her mouth appreciatively. "Remind me to never, _ever_ make you angry!" He said, and I snickered, making a mental note to do the very same. Raya grinned and kissed his forehead. "You're not Rapture. You have absolutely nothing to worry about."

The sharp, clear sound of a freshly filled glass of champagne being tapped with silverware cut through the noise of confusion buzzing throughout the room. Riot was the source of the sound, of course, assuming a commanding stance as he wordlessly called for attention and got it.

"Thank you," he purred, nodding with appreciation to each guest who made eye contact with him. "I'd like to take this opportunity to propose a toast to our dear friends, the newlyweds. To the best engineer in the music business, Rio Pacheco, and especially to his esteemed bride, Jerrica Benton-Pacheco - truly a goddess of all trades."

The devilish smile Riot bestowed on Jerrica right then was particularly disturbing to me, maybe more so than his unannounced arrival and that damnable song combined. His eyes sparkled at her, and it alarmed me to see how hard she was trying to not let her own eyes sparkle back. Riot confidently raised his glass, prompting all others present to do the same. "Here's to the opening of a wondrous new chapter in each of your lives, to a lifetime of quelling the thunder in each other's hearts...while sharing the warmth of each other's respective spotlights."

"Hear, hear!" Howard Sands called out after a brief, awkward pause, and the majority of the wedding party echoed his sentiment. I turned to my wife, who cast another wary glance at Riot before shrugging at me, as if to tell me she was at a loss, too. I repressed the urge to heave a heavy sigh, instead focusing on the positive by linking my arm through hers as both of us simultaneously took a sip of the sweet sparkling liquid. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that all three of the Stingers were intensely watching our every move. It angered me, and motivated me to take action.

"Come on," I whispered to Jerrica mischievously, taking her hand and leading her back to the dance floor. At the signal I gave to Mason, he and the Bluebloods struck up another ballad, one that thankfully was not their own and therefore considerably lowered the cheesiness factor. Jerrica's beautiful eyes gleamed as she smiled at me.

"What are you doing?" She asked, knowing full well what the answer was. "What do you think?" I replied with a wink, leaning in to kiss the spot on her neck that always made her shiver. "I'm showing that arrogant moron that this 'goddess of all trades' is all mine."

Her resulting laughter was infectious, and surprisingly infused with lust. "You've got that right," Jerrica murmured, her breath tickling my skin and setting me on fire. "And I can't wait to bask in that spotlight of yours."

All the angry thoughts fell away, as did my awareness of Riot and his groupies as Jerrica and I became completely lost in our own little sensual world. She emitted the tiniest moan as my fingers traced the soft ridges of her spine, and I found myself hoping she still remembered where she'd put the key to Danielle's cabin.

"Jerrica," I whispered, and was answered with another, more inquisitive moan. "Where's the key?"

"The key?"

"To that cabin. I'm thinking we need to make an escape."

She giggled, hugging me closer to her as we continued to sway back and forth. "But everyone's watching us. We can't just up and leave at our own wedding, you know."

I started to respond, but to my sudden alarm my vocal chords refused to comply. I swallowed, tried again, and still I could not speak. Frowning, I backed away slightly and saw my wife smiling radiantly at me as the room began to swim before my eyes. I shook my head rapidly, trying to fend off this inexplicable feeling of vertigo. What in the hell was wrong with me?

_"C'mon, what's eatin' you, Rio? Wedding day jitters getting you down?"_

"Rio?" Jerrica's voice was distant, as if traveling through water. I blinked, focusing hard on her concerned face, which was blurring beyond my recognition. The room spun wildly and I felt myself falling. Jerrica spoke my name again. It sounded like music being played through a Walkman on low battery power.

Uncontrollable darkness behind my eyes threatened to overwhelm me entirely as I stared at the blonde figure, which had somehow morphed from my wife into Minx, and I wondered at some level if Jerrica was disguising herself on me again.

"Rio, you're ill, you need to rest." Jerrica/Minx said to me, propping me up under her delicate weight. "I have a room that is close by. Come, you need to lie down."

Exhausted and unable to speak, I could not help being led back into the bowels of the ship, trying mutely to protest as I was dropped onto something soft, probably a bed. The last thing I grasped before the darkness claimed me was that delicate weight sinking down beside me, rubbing against me provocatively.

_---_

**TBC**


	6. On The Way Down

_Disclaimer: All characters are property of Hasbro/Sony Wonder, 1985 - 2006. All rights reserved to them, and **NOT** to me. Sue me and recieve nothing but the tracks of my tears.._

_A/N: This chapter contains drug references, mature themes / language, and one or two obviously sexual, but not profane situations. Discretion is advised. Also, just for reference's sake, the first scene was written to and is inspired by the song "Eat the Music" by Kate Bush. Again, **no **plaigarism here, but even so, Kate gets credit for painting such a clear picture for me._

-----

**Jerrica**

The sweet strains from the Bluebloods' cover of "Don't Dream It's Over" swirled deliciously around Rio and I as we swayed together. I closed my eyes and breathed my laughter into his ear. "But everyone's watching us," I purred to him in mock protest. "We can't just up and leave at our own wedding, you know."

I could have sworn that I heard Rio respond, but the honest truth was that I didn't really know what happened after those words left my mouth. The only thing I would remember concretely was the sound of Riot's voice, flowing like molten honey from behind me without a warning and shattering the moment of intimacy. Had it been anyone else, I would have dismissed them immediately without a qualm, but Rory Lewellyn was different. Rory Lewellyn had always been different, and tonight it had been made crystal clear to me, much to my chagrin, just how much of me remained ensnared in his addictive web of desire.

I felt his body just barely come up behind mine as a woozy flamenco melody began to percolate in the air. The bass notes wove themselves between the perky staccato drumbeats and above it all floated an airy, vaguely familiar female voice. "May I have this dance?" he murmured against my ear, igniting that spark of chagrin momentarily into a flame of anger at this arrogant prick of a rock god who refused to give up on seducing me, even now as I tried to share a dance with my new husband.

"Can't it wait?"

The melody started to pick up speed, the rumble of the bass urging it on until it bounced along in a scintillating rhythm. I soon found myself literally pulled along with it as Riot's gentle hand took me by the waist and stole me out of Rio's arms so that I could face that devilish smirk head-on. "My dear, I don't believe that it can." His hips began slowly mimicking the beat while his hands forced mine to follow.

Furious, I spun away from him, only to be swiftly pulled right back as if the move were part of our dance! My temples throbbed with an angry rush of blood, and I tried to look to Rio for help - but inexplicably there was an empty space where he'd stood holding me only seconds ago. I guess at least he's managed to control his temper this time, I thought. But for once, I decided not to even bother. _Riot wants a dance, does he? Fine with me. I'll give his Highness a dance he won't soon forget_.

My body tensed and twirled back to accept Riot's outstretched arm, which held me at an angle so I could pirouhette twice more before pulling _him_ to meet _me._ "Nice job," I panted derisively as I matched him step for step. "Now you've made Rio so mad that he took off to avoid giving you the beating you desperately deserve."

The blond Lethario's laughter slowly oozed out of him, so deep and sinister it almost defined the word _erotic_. The sound seemed to wash over my body and penetrate my brain, trying to paralyze my attempts at rational thought. "My perfect one," Riot intoned with a bruising confidence, "it seems that he and Minx have taken this opportunity to seek out the pleasure of each other's company."

He dipped me before I had a chance to react, letting my head fall back and the rest of me arch elegantly backwards. Stunned at first, I quickly regained composure and fought back with my body, undulating myself up and against his gyrating hips, his hard stomach and finally up to his chest before fixing him with a filthy gaze. "You're lying," I purred to him, coming so close to his face that our lips just barely touched. "And badly, too. You think I'll buy some dumb claim like that when it's obvious you planned to do this?"

I righted myself suddenly to spin around before our bodies collided again. "How do you figure?" Riot responded as we moved together in unison...one, two, step, one, two, step, step. He really _was_ an excellent dancer; I was finding it harder to keep up with him, especially while wearing this dress. "That trashy song alone was a dead giveaway," I snapped. "Besides, I think I know by now that Rio is _not_ the type to run off with your tramp of a keyboard player on his own wedding day,"

There was that laugh again, a little gentler this time. "You left your home and your lucrative business behind to come away with me to the Carribean, spontaneously, for at least three weeks." Riot slyly responded, dipping me with a flourish as the music built to a blistering crescendo. "Wouldn't you suppose that anything, Jerrica, is possible?"

My jaw dropped at the vicious barb. An anger-fueled infusion of adrenaline tingled in my nerves, erecting my spine as straight as the laws of physics would allow. I tore myself away from him and picked up my skirts, striding in the direction of the yacht's guest quarters. "I sincerely doubt that you'll find what you're searching for, Jerrica," Riot called after me as I reached the main entrance. I shot a scathing glare in his direction.

"You're full of shit, Rory Lewellyn." I stated bluntly before making my exit. "You don't have one sincere bone in your steroid-riddled body, and I'm going to prove it once and for all."

-----

**Danse**

Vivian emitted a low whistle as she aimed her trusty camera at the stage, where a tipsy Luna Dark had just invited herself onstage to croon some of her new "poetry" along to the Bluebloods' strangely catchy tropicalia number. "Well, now I've seen everything, and I've taped it, too," Viv sighed, muttering a curse and suddenly peering at the camcorder. "At least I hope I did. The tape just ran out." She bent to fumble in vain for its case and swore again. "Oh, great, _now_ where did I put it?"

I sighed sympathetically, giving her shoulder an affectionate rub. "You left it by the stage earlier to get a better shot of Jerrica and Rio's big entrance," I informed her, and she gave an aggravated sigh. "Would you be a love and retrieve it for me, please? Heaven knows I wouldn't want to miss a minute of all this juicy, mostly Stinger-induced drama."

I giggled at her sarcasm; both of us had stared as Riot and Jerrica, for some reason, decided to stage some kind of steamy dance-off, while Rio presumably slunk off into the shadows. Neither of us still quite knew what to make of it all.

"Not a problem," I chirped before kissing her on the cheek, secretly eager for an excuse to take refuge from Vivian's overextended patience. "I'll be back in a second."

Threading my way through the dance floor, which was still packed despite the band's long-overdue dinner break, I narrowed my eyes and searched for the telltale hot pink ribbon I'd secured to Viv's bag last night as she slept, knowing the day's stresses would surely cause a crucial object or two to go missing. She was a stickler for details in the editing room and had a keen eye for brilliant shots, but little physical details had always seemed to elude my girlfriend, especially on shoots of particular importance. Today was no different, I thought, spotting the black patent bag by the stairs on the left side of the platform and hurrying to snatch it up. The sooner Viv got what she needed, the happier both of us would be. Satisfied, I turned to go back - and ran smack into a solid blur of electric blue hair and panicked sweat. The blur let out a breathless string of apologies, stepping back to reveal herself as that keyboardist friend of Kimber's and a key member of the Misfits.

"You haven't seen Kimber, have you, Danse?" Stormer blurted out, practically dancing in place. Her big green eyes darted about the room wildly. "I can't find her, and I _have_ to find her, I just have to..."

Startled, I blinked and shook my head, trying to find my bearings. "N-no, Stormer, I haven't." I peered at this overwrought creature and secretly wondered if she'd been indulging in some illicit substance. "Are you all right? You seem...distressed."

"No. No, I'm _not_ all right. I'm not all right at all!" Stormer exclaimed with indignance, eyes flashing. She grabbed for my hand and before I knew it, I was being dragged back towards where the bride and groom had been sitting. "No one in Jerrica's overpaid security team believes me, and I can't find anyone who will, so you're just going to have to do!"

I watched in stunned silence as the sanest member of the Misfits proceeded to refute that unofficial title, frantically examining the surface of the main table for something that didn't seem to exist. Swearing loudly, she knelt down and crawled underneath the table. "Proof, I need proof. Where is that damned thing? I could have sworn I saw her drop it..."

"Uh, Stormer, maybe we should find you a place to lie down," I said gently, bending to fish her out from under the tablecloth. It was an act that proved unnecessary; Stormer gave a triumphant cry and backed out on her own, defiantly revealing to me a small brown vial. "Aha! See, I told you! It was Minx! I saw the whole thing."

"Stormer, _what_ did you see?" I pressed impatiently. Stormer groaned at me and flung her hands up in the air. "What I _saw_ was Minx emptying whatever was in that thing into Rio and Jerrica's drinks just before Riot proposed that toast! Now I can't find any one of them, and I'm really starting to get nervous!"

Well, that was the understatement of the year. "Are you sure? I mean, maybe you just think you saw that. Anything's possible."

"You don't believe me either, do you?" Stormer leaned over and snatched the glass that had been Rio's. "Look, right there. See that residue on the bottom?"

Deciding it was best to humor her, I took the glass and studied it closely. She was right! A tiny pool of barely visible whitish powder had collected in the base of the glass' stem, and it didn't look like anything that ordinary champagne should have left behind. "Oh God," I whispered as Stormer's fear became contagious. "This is not good, not good at _all. _What do we do now?"

"That's what I was hoping you'd know," she replied sadly, folding her arms over her chest. Sobering quickly, she took a moment to ponder the situation before brightening with a new idea. "My brother will hear me out! With any luck, he should be eating dinner with the rest of the band by now!"

Stormer pocketed the vial, and I cradled the telltale glass close to my chest as the two of us sought out Craig Phillips and the other Bluebloods. Sure enough, all of them plus Aja were huddled in the galley around plates of half-eaten chicken marsala, and all looked up at us in surprise upon our bursting inside.

"Mary?" Craig ventured, immediately detecting our shared anxiety. He and Aja traded worried glances before looking back at Stormer and I. Stormer silently offered him the empty vial, which he examined warily. "What is this?"

Stormer heaved a sigh and recounted her story; as she spoke, Aja too rose from her chair to join us, her eyes ablaze with righteous anger. "Even if we do manage to find Jerrica or Rio, neither of them will believe me if they think that only I saw this happen," Stormer was saying, her voice beginning to tremble from the onset of tears. Mason immediately offered her his chair, which she accepted with an appreciative hint of a smile.

"I believe you, Stormer," Aja offered, eliciting a very surprised reaction from the distraught Misfit. "You can't be serious," Stormer said, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.

"Of course I'm serious," Aja replied gently. "Look, we've had our differences, obviously, but what I saw on that stage tonight is impossible to ignore. I'll bet good money that all of this was planned meticulously in advance." Craig gratefully squeezed Aja's hand and then sat beside his sister. "How long has it been since you last saw Minx, Mary?"

Stormer pursed her lips, deep in thought. "Maybe a half hour. The last time I saw Jerrica was when Riot cut in on Rio to dance with her, after you guys took the stage back from the Stingers." Her eyes narrowed. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen Rio since then, either."

"Has anyone else seen Rio or Jerrica, or any of the Stingers?" Craig asked, the tension in his voice practically making it a demand. His only answer was a thick and foreboding silence as all of us put the pieces together, unsettled by the picture that puzzle finally revealed.

Aja silently retrieved the vial from Craig's hand and held it in her palm, contemplating. "Well, we can't just sit back and let this happen!" She said finally, and looked up to meet Craig's eyes. "You need to go try to find Rio, and we'll go after Jerrica. And whatever you do, don't let any of the Starlight girls catch on to this, even Lela or Deirdre; the last thing we need is for all of them to start panicking."

Craig nodded and jumped up from his seat. "We'll cover more ground if all of us split up. I'll go round up some of the other groomsmen, see if they've spotted anything suspicious."

"We'll all search the lower decks," Mason volunteered, and the rest of his bandmates grunted their agreement. Aja sighed and curled her fingers around the vial. "Good, because we need to get to the bottom of this before everything - and I mean _everything_ - goes straight to hell."

_-----_

**Jerrica**

With my head held high, I strutted down the hallway to the Countess' quarters, singing "Come On In" to myself as I walked. Eventually I'd deduced that Rio, being the romantic that he is, had had one of the crew let him inside ahead of time to surprise me. Visions of bubble baths and silk sheets played in my head, doing their best to erase the memory of what Riot had insinuated.

"'The pleasure of each other's company,'" I sneered, mimicking that ridiculous phrasing of his. "This is insane. This is why I hired bodyguards in the first place, so things wouldn't have to come to this. Well, a fat lot of good that idea did. They are _so_ fired." I gave a sigh as I reached my destination and knocked on the door.

"Rio," I sang out coquettishly. "I hope you're ready for me, honey." There was no answer, and I rapped on the wood again. "Rio?"

Maybe he was busy running the bath or something and couldn't hear me. Oh well, I resolved, I'll just let myself in and surprise him instead. A smile played on my lips at the very appealing thought as I fumbled to slip the key into the deadbolt. At the same instant it clicked open, though, an odd sounding cry pierced the air from a few cabins down, and my eyebrows raised.

"Someone's having a good time," I murmured. "Maybe that's where Kimber and Sean ran off to." But there were more strange rustlings that followed the cry, arousing my curiosity and my suspicions. Squinting down the hall, I touched one of the Jemstar earrings. "Synergy? Do you have any idea where Rio is?"

"I cannot detect him through my remote sensor arrays, Jerrica," I heard her reply in her familiar monotone, "but I do sense that something is wrong. You may want to investigate further, however, I would not recommend doing so alone."

A tiny needle of hot fear pierced the wall of my stomach. "Why not?"

"It is not recommended."

I rolled my eyes at her redundancy and started towards the source of the sounds anyway. She did tell me to investigate, I tried to reassure myself as I drew nearer. Plus, I want answers, company or no. Feeling a disturbing sense of deja vu, I rapped my fist on this door once, then twice. There was a feminine giggle on the other side, followed by another rustling and the clicking sound of the door being opened, but only slightly. One dark brown eye, lined heavily with black, stared me down through the sliver of space.

"What is it you want?" The voice belonging to the eye demanded, and my heart began pounding. There was no way I wouldn't recognize that lilting purr of a German accent. "Jerrica Benton, is that you?"

The door swung open with a flourish, and I sharply inhaled at the sight of a barely dressed Minx greeting me, her lascivous smirk telling me all I needed to know. An even less dressed Rio was just beginning to rouse himself from a deep slumber in her bed, covered only with a few stray linens, and the sight made my heart seem to literally burst into flame. A million chaotic thoughts burned their way through my mind at warp speed, but only one stood out amongst the others. _I knew it. I should have known he couldn't possibly still love me after he found out I was Jem. _The shock detonated like a bomb underneath me, paralyzing my body and threatening to shatter my mind as I continued to stare. I could do nothing else.

From the bed, Rio suddenly sat up to survey his situation, visibly horrified at the scene that greeted him. Then his brown eyes dared to meet mine, which were making every effort not to shed tears. Rio's jaw fell open; he simultaneously leapt from the mattress and wrapped himself in one of the sheets, desperate to explain himself to me.

"Jerrica, I - "

"I can't believe you. I honestly can't believe you, Rio. I see it with my own eyes, but I can't believe that you could possibly be so thoughtless, and that I believed that you still loved me." Swallowing a sob, I turned on my heel and stormed away, steadfastly refusing to cry. No weakness here, I thought hotly as tears streamed down my face, none except his.

I heard Rio calling my name, the sound of his footsteps pounding after me, but did I stop? Of course not. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But just as I reached Danielle's quarters, I felt his hand grip my elbow and spin me around to face him. "Jerrica, I didn't do anything, I swear to you! Look, I don't know how in the hell I got in Minx's bed, but you have to believe me, I passed out or something. I would never be unfaithful to you, and I know how it looks."

Through wet, bloodshot eyes I glared at him. If Rio claimed he knew how this looked, then he must have known how utterly moronic he sounded, declaring himself to be innocent while hastily wrapped in an obviously used bedsheet. "I'm praying what I saw just now was only a hologram, that it could all be erased with a touch of the earring, but I'm not that stupid, Rio." I responded slowly, enunciating every syllable for maximum impact. "I _know_ what I saw, and now I know the truth. You never really loved me," I growled, stabbing my finger at his sternum. "No, the only thing that kept _you_ hanging around was _Jem!"_

It was then that the memory of what I'd said to Aja in the Roadster over a year ago came back to me, unveiling itself like a hideous prophecy. _I've been thinking about it, Aja, a lot. I mean, if he's 'cheating' on me with Jem, that means he's capable of cheating with someone else. Do I really need to always have that in the back of my mind?_

"I'll bet that's why Minx was so nice all of a sudden," I said aloud as the awful realization hit me. My stomach turned and it took all the self control I had to keep from launching my fist right into his jaw. "Tell me, Rio, were you thinking of me while you screwed her blind? Or worse, were you just fucking _Jem_ inside your head when you were supposed to be making love to me! When you were supposed to love _me?_ God, talk about deception and _liars!_"A malevolent rage flared inside me at that, motivating me to shove him away as hard as I could muster. All he could do was stare at me with wide eyes, bedroom eyes that must have made his little attention slut simply quiver in delight.

Suddenly I felt very, very tired. I didn't care anymore. I just wanted to cry, to be weak. I was tired of standing up for myself, and of being strong. My craving was to be numb. "I want to be alone now, Rio," I sighed, shuffling inside the cabin. "Just give me that much. Just leave me the hell alone."

Without giving him a chance to reply, I slammed the door shut as hard as I possibly could, needing to hear to the walls and windows rattle from the force of my anger. Danielle's canopy bed beckoned to me, and I gratefully collapsed on it. Once I did, the tears completely took over, wrenching my body into the fetal position. "What am I going to do?" I practically squealed between sobs. "How could he do this to me? How did I let this happen - how stupid can I possibly be?" Beside my crumpled body, Synergy's violet image flickered into view.

"Jerrica..." she cooed softly, and I felt the concerned presences of my mother and father making themselves known to me through her. "Didn't I warn you not to investigate alone?"

"Oh, don't rub it in, Synergy!" I wailed into the pillow. "I know I'm an idiot! I trusted blindly. I made this bed, and now I'll lie in it."

"That is not what I meant." I felt the touch of a not-quite-solid hand on my shoulder and closed my eyes at the chills that prickled my skin. "Your trust was not blind, Jerrica. It was the _way_ you trusted that steered you down the wrong path. It's never too late to change direction."

Then came the knock on the door. My eyes darted toward the sound. It came again, gentler than the first. "Jerrica?" That voice of molten honey seeped through the door and underneath, and I felt all three presences in the room raising their hackles. "Are you all right? I heard a commotion, and it greatly worried me..."

Breathing in deep, I forced myself into a sitting position and slid off the bed, making each step towards the door slow and deliberate. I peered into the peephole, and sure enough, Riot stood waiting on the other side. My eyes closed.

"What do you want, Riot?" I barked out. Needless to say, I was in no mood to deal with his mind games; in fact, I wanted very badly to turn those games on Riot, or any man that dared to piss me off right now. I wanted Rio to hurt through them.

"Jerrica, my only concern is for your well being," Riot answered in his usual cryptic manner. Maybe it was the state I was in, or even the contorting effects of the tiny lens, but for once his sentiments actually came across as genuine. I glanced at Synergy's image, which was still hovering above the bed protectively.

"Don't make yourself any more vulnerable than you are already, Jerrica," she said to me, and subsequently evaporated, leaving the choice in my hands. I sighed softly.

I knew she was right. I should have left him standing outside; I should have returned to the bed, fixed myself a stiff drink, and cried myself to sleep. But I didn't. Against my better judgement but in need of some form of distracting entertainment, I unlocked the deadbolt and gingerly swung the door open.

---

**Rio**

I stared at the door long after Jerrica had slammed it shut in my face. I had sunk to the floor and stayed there for an unknown period of time, listening to her cry even though I knew it was wrong of me to do so. What I _didn't_ know was how in the world I had ended up apparently sleeping with Minx tonight instead of Jerrica; God, what a horrifying thought. My head throbbed with pain and dulled my senses, but I was still fully aware of my heart imploding right inside my chest. Why couldn't I remember what had happened?

Remaining on the floor, I repeatedly demanded answers from myself. I racked my brain for any shred of memory, to no avail. In any case, my life was still ruined. I'd destroyed our marriage before it had even begun, and I knew I'd never see Jerrica again. I was sure our love died the second she saw me in that damned bed, and she would only be back to bury me in divorce papers.

Utterly dejected and enraged, I stalked my way back to Minx's den to retrieve my clothing. An overwhelming odor of high-grade marijuana hung low in the air, emanating from the bed that she and Rapture were lazing about on. A simpering smile turned up one corner of those blood red lips as she took an elegant puff from the slender golden bong and then passed it to her bandmate.

"Changed our mind, have we?" Minx purred, giggling darkly. "I knew you would - they always do. I also thought you might enjoy having the both of us for an encore, no?" The low frequencies of their laughter mingled with the wafting smoke as Rapture shamelessly reached to caress Minx in an intimate fashion.

"No," I retorted, glaring at the two of them as I dressed myself. "Look, I don't know what the hell happened here, if anything at all, but either way this doesn't change a thing. Jerrica is still my wife, and you" - I pointed at Minx - "mean nothing to me."

She shrugged and snuggled closer to Rapture. "Suit yourself, lover. It was fun while you lasted!"

The cackling that resulted followed me out into the hall and rang in my ears as I searched the yacht for the most secluded hiding place possible. Tears singed my eyes. How could this have happened? How could I _let_ it happen? I stumbled onward, towards an alcove near the tail end of the vessel, and heaved my torso over the railing as I gave in to an uncontrollable surge of nausea. Long ago the party had ended without us, and I was grateful for the privacy and silence of the night if nothing else. The sound of the water lapping against the boat was comforting, and I allowed myself finally to go numb, at least for the time being.

After a few moments, I detected the sound of footsteps approaching and looked up involuntarily. Someone had apparently been sent out in search of me, and it was too late to try and slip away; whoever it was had already seen me. Too despondent to really care one way or the other, I returned my gaze to the water.

"Rio, is that you?" It was Craig's voice. "Christ, man, we've been looking for you forever!"

"I figured," I replied. Craig joined me at the railing, while Luis and Anthony did the same on my left. "Want to let us in on what happened?" One of them asked.

"I don't know," I said simply, feeling dead inside. "I can't remember a thing. I have no idea what I've done to tear my life apart - and for the second time, no less."

"You have no memory of anything you've done in the past two hours?" Luis asked.

"None whatsoever."

When I glanced up, all three were exchanging incredulous looks. "Then it's a damn good thing we found you when we did," Anthony commented with a sigh, reaching up to rub the stress from his neck. "Rio, there's something you need to know. Craig says Stormer and Danse both saw Minx hovering around your glass of champagne. They swear she slipped some white powder into it, and they even brought back proof." He produced the alleged evidence from the pocket of his jacket.

Oh, come on, white powder in my champagne? This was all starting to feel like a really bad episode of "Dynasty". I peered at the glass and turned to Craig, squinting at him in disbelief. "All I remember is being overwhelmed with exhaustion, all of a sudden. I chalked it up to the stress of the wedding, cold feet, call it what you want. Are you seriously telling me I was drugged? That I really didn't cheat on Jerrica after all?"

Another, more knowing look was exchanged between the three men. "Let me ask you this, Rio, and it's a very personal question, at that." Luis ventured. "Was there any...how do I say this gently...any _physical_ evidence that you and Minx had sex together? Used prophylactics, wet sheets, any of that?"

I considered that, trying to piece together all the flashes of memory from the initial point of impact. "Now that you mention it, no. I was too busy chasing after Jerrica to take notice, but you're right. I was just naked, draped in a sheet, but it was dry. Everything was dry, including me." I thought of the lascivous offer Minx had made when I returned for my clothes, and exhaled sharply. Now it was all starting to form some kind of sense. "I think Riot is behind this. He's got those girls wrapped around his finger, and I'll bet it wasn't hard for him to convince Minx to try and sleep with me, so he could get to Jerrica. Son of a bitch."

Luis nodded at me in agreement. "It hasn't been very long; they're probably still on the ship. I think that after we clean you up, my friend, it's time we all go pay Mr. Lewellyn a long overdue visit."

Craig laughed out loud at the suggestion and grinned at Luis. "I barely know you, man, but I'm liking you already." Anthony clapped a friendly hand on my back, making me smile, but not from the newfound comradery. Forcing off the lingering effects of whatever those sleaze-riddled harpies plied me with, I steeled myself with a newfound determination as the four of us headed off to find my nemesis.

---

**Riot**

Once that cabin door opened to reveal my perfect match, clad in the most exquisite concotion of pure white satin, my smile could no longer be hidden. Even in all her ragged, tearstained glory, she positively glowed with that unknown force that kept me a slave to her mere presence, but those blue planets for eyes were searing me with the unmistakable fire of a woman scorned. "What is it? What do you want now!"

Hell hath no fury, indeed. That voice, once so gorgeously supple, had turned so curt and hard it laid into my heart like the hot blade of a well-aimed sword. I did my best to soften my expression; truly, I was concerned for her well being, and her sanity, in this moment of reckoning. Sudden transitions were the hardest kind to adjust to, and no one had lived that story more thoroughly than I.

"I heard what happened, Jerrica...I'm so sorry."

Predictably, Jem rolled her eyes and scoffed at me. "Oh, you're _sorry_, are you? And exactly what the hell would you know about being _sorry_ for something, Riot? What do you know about having regrets at all?"

She made the mistake of stepping away from the doorframe then, retreating to the comfort of a huge canopy bed in the center of the luxury cabin. Excellent, I said to myself, taking the opportunity to enter and being exceedingly careful to lock the door behind us.

"I'd ask you if you were all right," I said to her as I gingerly sat on the edge of the bed, "but any imbecile could clearly tell that you are not. If there's anything at all I can do - "

"You can leave. Now."

I found her aggressiveness utterly charming, and bit my lip to keep from showing it. "Darling, if you truly didn't want me here, then why on Earth would you let me inside? Heaven knows, I would never force you to open that door. I wouldn't dare force you to do anything."

Jem rolled over onto her side then, a tiny smile playing on those luscious lips. It was enough to encourage me to inch closer to her, ever so slightly. "You're right," she admitted with obvious reluctance in her voice. "That wasn't fair of me. But it wasn't fair of you to throw that Carribean incident in my face back there, either."

"Would it be fair to declare ourselves even, then?"

To my relief, a short burst of her laughter perforated the air, immediately shifting the personal chemistry between us from hostility on her end to a relatively amiable acceptance. "I suppose it does," Jem replied offhandedly, tracing circles in the pillows with her index finger. Even in the twilight, I could plainly see fresh tears dripping onto the fabric, and my heart sank for her. The last thing I wanted was to cause her any true pain. I lay my hand upon her own, and she trembled with a sob.

"I'm sorry, Riot, it's just - "

"I know," I told her, and I meant it. She fell into my arms then, quite literally pouring her grief out on top of me. I stroked her gorgeous blonde locks, allowing my fingertips to lightly roam across her bare back. "I can't imagine how painful this must be for you." I was careful to shift myself appropriately so she wouldn't feel the effects of what her body was doing to mine - not yet. She wasn't ready yet.

"I truly am sorry," I whispered as softly as possible into her ear, letting the warmth of my breath offer her comfort. Her chest heaved a little, and then released with a trembling sigh. "It's my fault, I drove him to it," Jem moaned, her voice still thickened by tears as she nestled into a more comfortable position in my arms. "Maybe I'm just out of my mind."

My lips grazed her forehead. "Don't say things like that. He's a grown man, and he can take responsibility for his own actions; what's transpired here is not your fault."

Jem was still for a few moments, contemplating. "Tell me something," my love requested, and I gave a wordless murmur in reply. "Honestly, did you plan for all of this to happen? I - I mean, the lyrics of that song, and our dance, and what you said to me when I left to find - "

"No," I interrupted her, taking no pleasure in this particular lie. "No, I was serious when I told you I wanted to honor your union back at your video shoot. What I did _not _expect was that Minx still had designs for your significant other, and that _she_ was the one planning in advance. I adamantly warned her against it, Jerrica, but you know how she can be." Jem's body noticeably stiffened at the mention of her beloved roadie's "mistress", and I quickly steered the conversation elsewhere. "Nevertheless, you must know that whatever happens, I am always here for you."

"You sure have a strange way of showing it sometimes."

She was right, of course, and I knew it. Using games of the mind to turn the odds in my favor was one thing, but to do the same with the heart was something my mother had certainly never approved of, and consequently had always warred with my conscience. "So I've been told," I replied with a laugh. After a moment, Jem laughed too, but I was still more than aware of that reluctance. I left the matter to drop peacefully then; we both gazed out the vast picture window in silence, watching as the moon gradually shed its sharp blue light across the bed until it paused at our feet. Tellingly, an unseen coil of heat began to slowly unravel at the base of my spine and spread through my hips to share itself with my companion's. Now, if only she would _relax,_ I thought, and accept at last that this desire was undeniably mutual...ah, if only.

But after a time, Jem lifted her lovely head to look at me and I could literally feel the snap of electricity between our bodies. Her pupils were dilated, radiating a soft sensual warmth - a sure sign to me that Rapture's henbane potion had fully taken effect. I sighed with passion, a wet sound that gave voice to the sensation of the heavens aligning, the tides turning, celebrating for us.

"Jem," I whispered, tilting her flawless porcelain face towards my own. My very being throbbed, teeming with love and life. "All I've ever wanted is you, and you alone."

At last, at long last, my lips fully merged with hers and I felt those defenses of hers simply fall away. I smiled slightly against her mouth, my left hand taking advantage of the moment by sliding to the small of her back in a titillating motion, while the right rose up to slide the strap of her gown off of a creamy shoulder. Never in my life had a woman so consumed me with such carnal need, with the basest of longings. Gods, the pleasures I would bestow on her tonight astounded even myself...my body was beside itself with anticipation.

Slowly, ever so slowly I turned myself so that my body was positioned wantonly above hers. She emitted the smallest moan as the top half of the gown was slid away to reveal more of her exquisite flesh. The effects of her body on mine were blatant to her now; it was clear in the responsive roll of her hips, the way she now allowed me to expose her intimately. The moan came again, louder, as my palm made contact with a bare swell of femininity. I dipped down to savor more of her mouth, and then...lower, to make her soar until she reached the celebrating heavens, again and again, with the physical proof of my devotion.

"Wait."

Her breath warmed my lips, which hovered so torturously close to hers. Closing my eyes and inhaling my impatience back into my lungs, I opened them again to look into hers. Those blue orbs peered at me strangely, as if I'd just insulted her without warning.

"What is it, my love?"

She blinked. "Riot - "

"I think it should be Rory by now, love." I said, the words slightly muffled as I nipped at her neck, leaving damp traces across her skin.

"Rory." I felt her body draw back from mine as she pulled herself up onto her elbows. "You - you called me _Jem_."

A great crack of rolling thunder mauled the air at her piercing words. I sat up with a start, my first impulse being to wonder why on Earth there was thunder when we had just spent hours watching the clear night sky. Another blast of the thunder so violently shook the walls that the door forcibly swung open, squealing on its hinges to reveal the human source of the disrupting sound. Jem's head jerked up at the motion, her hands scurrying to cover herself with the displaced satin.

"You!" That blue haired incessant thorn in my side shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger in our direction. "I should have known! What have you done?"

Jem slid out from under my body, blinking rapidly as my spell started unraveling. "Yes, Riot," she said slowly, "what _have_ you done?"

Damn the fates; I'd pushed them beyond temptation with this plan for the goddess I knew I deserved. Just when I thought they would finally indulge me, a wrench, of course, had been thrown into the proverbial gears. I scowled at the very unwelcome intruders. "All three of you are trespassing on our privacy," I stated. "Leave now before I notify security."

"Notify _security_!" The guitarist barked out a mirthless laugh, advancing on me as I in turn stood to face her. "Oh, you've got some balls, Riot, to threaten us like that! Judging by all the stunts you've dared to pull tonight, it's a wonder you can still keep them between your legs!"

"Looks like he hasn't been trying all that hard," the usually placid Misfit sneered, prompting a snickering noise and a roll of the eyes from the Holograms' ballerina groupie. "I will not tolerate this childish behavior," I warned in a purposely raised voice. "You will let us alone at once!"

And then I was knocked to the floor, hard, by a heavy whirl of pounding fists and blunt force. "You son of a _bitch!_" The whirl screamed, and for once in my life I was glad my father had forced me into military training as I lunged with precision at my attacker. "Get off of me!" I seethed, tossing the body to the floor only to have it rear up and land a sucker punch to my jaw.

"Rio, don't - !" I heard a male voice shout as I reeled from the fist's impact and for the first time glimpsed the attacker's face. It was him. Again! Three pairs of disembodied hands attempted to drag Rio off of me, but he, naturally, wasn't having any of it. Another blow stunned me, but I gathered all my might to make him submissive with an admittedly rusty combat move. His resulting pained grunt was music to my ears.

"Stop it!" My true love cried, bravely darting in between the two of us. "I want to know exactly what's going on here!"

Still laid out on the cabin floor, I wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth, while the three men finally managed to get Rio upright. White hot rage blurred my vision. "Isn't it obvious?" I said to Jem as she helped me to stand. "This..._animal_ attacked me, unprovoked. I want him arrested."

Rio's eyes bulged. "Unprovoked, he says! You had Minx drug me, you tried to fool my wife into thinking I was unfaithful, and tried to take her for yourself, again! And on our wedding day, no less!"

"Jerrica, it's true!" The thorn exclaimed, with the little blue Misfit and that harlot of a dancer nodding emphatically at her side. "Stormer and Danse saw Minx slip the sedative into Rio's champagne!"

Jem turned on me, her blue eyes sharp and once again blazing. "So you _did_ set this up! You filthy liar, I can't believe this - you drugged me so you could finally get your way!" She grabbed the lapel of my shirt forcefully. "What did you do? _What did you poison us with?_"

Focusing myself and my damaged energies, I held up my hands as a means of appeasement. "Just a touch of henbane, darling, it's utterly harmless. I only did what I had to do, Jem, to make you mine. Please, I love you so much...I was left with little choice."

"You conniving bastard!" The biggest thorn in my side bleated hoarsely, attempting another lunge at me despite his captors' best efforts to soothe him. A string of foul threats predictably followed, but I stood firm. I would not bow to this crazed fool who thought he knew what was best for my Jem, _my_ perfect match. I wouldn't let him decide her destiny for her.

"Rio," Jem said slowly, in a manner meant to keep her roiling emotions at bay. "I am going to handle this. You and everyone but Riot need to leave. Now!" She barked when no one immediately responded. Begrudgingly, Rio and the others obeyed her request, and I watched them all leave with a satisfied smile.

"I knew you'd see it my way, my love," I purred, turning to embrace her, but she slapped me away.

"You listen to me," She seethed, and when I met her eyes, I was momentarily shocked by the raw fury with which they greeted me. "I ought to have _you_ arrested for this disgusting stunt you've pulled! You deserve to be punished, severely, for drugging my husband and I, and then having the gall to try and _trick_ me into your arms."

No, no, this was all wrong! Why wouldn't she listen to me? Why for the love of God couldn't she see how I worshipped her, how I enslaved myself in her name?

"Jem, please understand," I begged, watching her lovely face contort in distress. "I can't stop when it comes to you. I need you to smooth the flaws that have never ceased to plague my existence. I need your adoration, your perfection. _I need you."_

---

**Jerrica**

I could do nothing but stare at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded. Surely he wasn't that delusional.

"Rory," I said quietly, slowly clenching and unclenching my fists. "You don't love me. It's the illusion of perfection you love. You love it so much, it's all you can ever see, all you ever think about." I touched his arm gently. "But it's only an illusion. It's not something you can build your whole life around, and I speak from experience.

"I won't press charges," I continued, and he sagged only slightly with relief, "but only if you swear to me, sincerely, that you'll take Minx and Rapture back to West Germany, and stay there. They need you far more than I do. Make your lives in Europe, where you can do as you please. But so help me, if you _ever_ even _think_ about coming near me or anyone I love ever again, I'll put your ass in handcuffs. I mean it. Am I making myself clear?"

Riot stared me down, but I refused to flinch. I'd fought far too hard to get my life together to just let him, or anyone else, snatch it all out from under me.

"I see you will not be swayed," he resigned finally, turning to exit my life forever. "But rest assured, Mrs. Benton-Pacheco, that you have made the wrong choice. And there is no turning back. Think about that, when you lie tonight in the arms that are not mine." He paused at the doorway, smirking. "That is, if they'll ever hold you again."

I stared after him for a split second before panicking, fleeing from the cabin in the opposite direction of everyone in the hallway. I ran clear across the deck and down the stairs that led to the marina. Voices of loved ones were calling me, and still I ran. In my mind's eye, I was still running through the thicket of trees at the edge of Howard's property from the lies that held me hostage. Now more than ever, it felt to me that they always would.

---

Shades of grayish pink were just beginning to break over the eastern horizon by the time I realized how long I'd been sitting here on the edge of this remote dock, disguised by another one of Synergy's many anonymous holograms. Beneath the disguise, I was still in my wedding dress, now dirty and a little torn from where the fabric caught on a nail as I fled the ship. I gave a great sigh and wiped the last of the tears from my face as I watched the stars fade in the glare of burgeoning daylight.

Starlight was the message that she sent, I thought with a sad little laugh. The whole time I lay on that bed with Riot, I was watching those stars and trying to think of what my mom would have said about lying with another man on my wedding night. Fresh tears threatened to overflow again, and I was sick of crying. I was utterly sick of this bizarre love triangle, to quote one of my favorite songs, and on one level I was relieved that Riot was gone.

But despite the chaos he'd caused, I was still sitting here mourning the loss of that charismatic, distracting presence in my life. Although the man could certainly give the term _self centered _a whole new meaning, Riot wasn't evil by any stretch of the imagination, not like Eric. He'd just lived such a warped life that he lost touch with reality. Maybe that had actually been the case with Eric, too. I'll never know.

Why, I wondered sadly, have I had that effect on men?

Tellingly, at that same moment I spotted the one I still legally called my husband advancing on me from the edge of the marina. I hoped the disguise of my mother as a senior citizen would throw off whoever came after me, especially if it were him, but his plunking footsteps on the dock stopped a few paces away as he seemed to comtemplate the situation.

Go on, I fumed. Go back to the yacht and your loose-lipped hussy of a mistress, please. I don't feel like dealing with you just yet.

Rio wasn't picking up on this, apparently. He cleared his throat and approached with as much caution as he could. "Jerrica, I know it's you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said in the disguised voice, although I guessed it wasn't hiding my lie well enough for him to buy it. "I think you do," he replied. "You know, you really ought to hold off on using those earrings until you can actually wear them on your ears; the hologram doesn't fully cover you if it's being transmitted from around your neck."

Silently, I touched the red stars resting on my chest to turn the disguise off; I didn't have the energy required to fight him on this. Rio waited until the pink sparkle faded away completely before coming any closer, and it was clear that he didn't intend to leave me alone until he had his say.

Maybe I truly am out of my mind, I thought, and I only hallucinated seeing him naked in Minx's bed. Don't I owe it to myself to find out once and for all whether I'm crazy or not? It can't possibly make things any worse than they already are.

With a sigh, I patted the empty space beside me with exaggerated reluctance, and Rio accepted.

---

**Rio**

Breathing a sigh of wholehearted relief, I squatted and arranged myself nervously beside Jerrica. She didn't move; in fact, she didn't acknowledge me at all after that, and for a few moments I thought that was fine. Honestly, I wasn't certain how this conversation should be started, either. I ignored her as well, opting instead to watch the seagulls teasing the surface of the ocean by swooping down to snatch an odd bit of nourishment before returning to the sky. Their squeaking cries were the only sounds that bothered to fill the void between us.

"I'm not sure what to think," Jerrica said finally. "I feel so upside down. I don't know what, or who, to believe."

"You and me both."

That nauseating feeling that had haunted me all night long still sat like a cold rock in the pit of my stomach. I took a deep breath, realizing this was exactly how it had felt the first time we two were alone in the wake of something monumentally bad. Not only did she not trust me, but right now I wasn't very sure of her innocence myself.

"Rio, how am I supposed to be certain you were faithful to me even under the influence?" Jerrica asked, at last turning to look at me directly. "I don't know about you, but that stupid sedative certainly took away _my_ rationale."

"My point exactly," I replied coldly, not bothering to look back. "Riot's been after you for years, and ever since the day you met the guy, I know you've been fighting to not let yourself fall for him. You had no reason not to succumb to his whims, especially if you're truly convinced I've betrayed you - which I've already told you I haven't done. What happened tonight, Jerrica?"

"Nothing happened," she stated. "He came in and we talked for a while. I stopped him when he called me 'Jem'. That was when Aja, Danse and Stormer interrupted...what could have been a horrible mistake." Jerrica shuddered and put her face in her hands. "How do you know for sure you didn't make that same mistake with Minx, Rio, if that drug made you so out of it you have no memory of anything during those two hours?"

Christ, what did she want from me, a surveillance tape? This was ridiculous. "What, you really need to hear all the gory details? Look, you have to know that you're the only one I've ever been with. You of _all _people should know that. I believe you if you tell me Riot got nowhere with you, so why don't you hear me when I tell you the same damn thing?"

"You know why," she shot back, even though I obviously didn't.

"I _know_ I didn't have sex with her because, well, the facts don't add up and quite honestly, there was no concrete evidence at all!" My left hand took a chance and rested itself on her upper thigh.

Those full lips pursed with suspicion. "But what about Jem?"

I squinted at her. Where was she going with this? "_What_ about Jem?"

"She was another woman."

"No, she was _you_, testing me by posing as another woman. It doesn't count." I sighed, feeling like my head was going to cave in from this relentless pressure. "Jer, we've been over this already," I said wearily. "Don't you remember your early days as Jem?"

Jerrica closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. For a moment I thought she was going to burst into tears, but she merely nodded once in reply.

"Then you'll probably remember how 'she' kept coming on to me constantly," I continued. "I turned 'her' down every single time until she - until _you_ fell off the side of...huh. The same yacht we just got married on." I paused to let that sink in. "At any rate, this sounds sappy, but when 'Jem' kissed me that night, my heart knew instantly who she really was. My mind was just still too fucked up at the time to listen."

Heaving another, more frustrated sigh, I stood up and paced back and forth on the dock a bit. My mind raced for an answer that would quell her anger and end this madness. "Jerrica, please believe me, the man you've known and hopefully loved all your life, when I say to you that _nothing happened with Minx._ I adore you; I can't be with anyone _but _you, especially not someone like her!" Now it was my turn to shudder.

The only response I got was a mournful gaze, which sent my blood pressure skyrocketing. Now I knew how she felt trying to reason with me after accidentally outing herself as Jem, and how I had refused to listen. This was like trying to reason with a stone wall. I had to get her to understand, I just had to. There was no other option.

"Jerrica, I wouldn't do that to you! I am _not_ my father," I blurted, regretting the words even as they left my mouth. Jerrica immediately looked up from the water.

"Is that what happened to you back then, Rio?" She asked quietly. "Your father was unfaithful to your mother?"

I said nothing, only emitting a rattling hiss of air when tortured images of my father with another woman flashed before my eyes. "I knew what the old bastard was doing," I confessed in a hoarse voice as I sat beside her again. "And so did my mother. Everyone knew full well the transparency of our lives, but no one did anything to put a stop to it. One day I came home for spring break, found him in bed with one of his co-workers. My mother came home then, too, and I expected her to absolutely blow up. Anyone would have - you did. I _certainly_ did. But you know what she said to me, Jerrica?"

I didn't even give her a chance to shake her head. "She told me that happened every day around that time, and I was - I was _flabbergasted_. All I could say was 'Why?', although there was just this acidic backup of words just burning inside me, threatening to really boil over, you know? She looked me really strangely and just said, 'Rio, we've been divorced for years now. Didn't we tell you? How did you not know?'"

My throat constricted, closing in on my voice and trapping it in my throat. Jerrica laid her hand on mine, and I could feel the cool metal of her wedding band against my skin. "So then it came out that all those years, pretty much since I was sixteen, my parents had been living under the same roof, barely tolerating one another, cheating on each other and putting me through hell because they thought telling me they were getting a divorce would have been too traumatic." I tried to laugh and coughed hard instead. "That was about the time I started spending most of my waking hours at your house, and then your dad offered me the engineering job right after graduation."

I looked up from my clenched fists to gauge her reaction. The early sunlight accentuated the tears rimming her eyes, but otherwise she seemed to be taking my emotional boil popping rather well.

"But where are they now, Rio? What happened to them?"

Damn it. There it was, the jackpot question, and here I was left with no other choice but to answer it. "They've been dead for almost four years now," I admitted to the water. "After I moved out for good, things just collapsed altogether, and I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. I didn't even tell them where I lived. One night they were out driving around, trying to find my apartment."

I didn't realize I had been shedding tears until she pulled me into her loving arms, enveloping me with a soft warmth. "My father's blood alcohol level was through the roof...he'd been drinking for hours. He and my mother must've got into something big, and..." I buried my head in her lap, convulsing with a long buried sob. "And their Pinto hit the median wall head-on. There was fire involved. They died instantly."

I heard her horrified intake of breath as she cradled me close to her stomach, where I could hear her heartbeat faintly. "Oh, God, Rio," she moaned as she stroked my hair, bending to press her lips to my temple. "How did you ever go for all this time without telling me?"

If I hadn't been literally choking on severely repressed grief, I would have found the irony of her question hilarious. "It happened maybe a week after your father passed away," I eventually managed to say. "You were so destroyed at the time, I couldn't bear to tell you, but I couldn't bear the pain inside me, either. So I made a choice. Like I said, I'd moved out on my own, and your family never really interacted with my parents much, so when the house was sold, I let you think that they'd moved away." Another shuddering breath consumed me. "In short, I decieved you, I lied to you."

"It would serve you right if I never spoke to you again," she finished for me, sounding almost amused. "This is ridiculous."

"What?"

"We've been just blatantly lying to each other for years, Rio. I don't think you've ever told another soul that story, have you?" Jerrica said, her breath tickling my ear. I shook my head no in the crook of her arm. "There was a therapist I saw a couple of times, but it didn't work out as planned. Basically I've just kept mum about it."

"I thought so," she whispered, began to slightly rock me back and forth like a baby, but I didn't protest. Silence took up the space between us again, but this was a different kind of silence. It was a stillness, a feeling I hadn't experienced, well, ever. I blinked at the ocean from the safety of her lap and took a breath that felt like my first. Jerrica did nothing but hold me there in her arms, letting the grief ebb and flow away like the tide.

_Your trust was not blind, Rio,_ an inner voice whispered to me, a voice that reminded me faintly of Jerrica's dad. _It was the way you trusted that steered you down the wrong path. It's never too late to change direction._

I sat up then to slide my arm around my wife's waist. "Let's start all over again," I said. Jerrica peered at me curiously, probably on some level questioning my sanity. "What do you mean?"

Backing away a bit, I offered her my hand to shake. "My name's Rio. Rio Pacheco. I don't believe I've caught your name?"

She sized me up for another couple of moments, but it wasn't long before that girl-next-door smile came shining out to greet me. "I'm Jerrica Benton. It's so good to _finally_ meet you, Rio."

To say that relief flooded me at that moment didn't come close to how I truly felt; no words could adequately describe it. Jerrica reached for me and kissed me full on the lips, and I embraced her with my arms, my heart, my whole being. Talk about a perfect match, I said to myself, and mentally to Riot, as her sweet mouth opened slightly against mine. Check and mate.

A sardonic laugh left her lips once they parted from my own. "Anything else we need to get off our chests, we should do it now, because I'm not going to go through all this soap opera crap with you the rest of our lives."

Somewhere down the beach, an early group of surfers had their radio on while they suited up, and of all the songs in the world, the blasted box of wires was pumping the plaintive strains of Deirdre's big hit song. _"I don't know where we are, but I'm...still with you..."_ Both of us groaned, especially me. If that wasn't irony kicking my ass, I didn't know what was.

"I was the engineer that cut Deirdre's demo," I said, cringing.

Jerrica sat up abruptly at that to stare at me furiously, but that fury didn't last for long before she burst out laughing. "I had a feeling it was you," she said to me, settling back into my arms. "Plus, I checked the log book a few days ago. Your name was still listed from the 5th Avenue session."

"Well, aren't I just a stickler for detail," I groaned, completely embarrassed. But that wonderful woman smiled up at me then, her eyes emanating true forgiveness, and for the time being all was at peace again in our little private universe.

---

**Riot**

My fingers danced languidly across the fretboard of my favorite Strat, following David Gilmour's ministrations on "Time" quite flawlessly. How many days in a row I'd taken comfort in the rather nostalgic teenaged practice of playing guitar to my first worn-out copy of _Dark Side Of The Moon_, I'd no idea, and I didn't even come close to caring. I couldn't bear to play any of my own compositions; no, the only thing that eased the tearing in my soul was the soothing vibration of my guitar melding with Gilmour's.

"Time" flowed casually through the next track into "Money", and my fingers didn't miss a beat. Time and money, I mused absently, the two things that Eric always harped on and that I'd found an abundance of. I had everything, and nothing. I was missing that crucial element, the one that had eluded me until that fateful night at the Rock Hard and insisted on eluding me for all eternity. The fates had decided, I told myself while my guitar solo squealed along with the record's. All was lost if I had lost her.

A jaunting click interrupted the cool streaming of sound from the stereo, its button engaged by one elegant, red-tipped finger. Although I was startled, and angered, I couldn't bring myself to look into the face of whichever one of my girls was demanding my attention now. Rapture, fortunately, was kind enough to do it for me. Her hand held my jaw in an uncomfortably tight grip.

"If I have to hear that solo one more goddamned time, Rory..."

Her words were savage, but her voice was soft and yielding. My eyes flicked up to meet her warm gaze, while Minx knelt beside me. "You must shake yourself out of this, lover," Minx cooed to me, her hand sliding its warmth up the length of my thigh. Heaviness consumed my heart as I looked at them both. I had explained this phenomena to them too many times to count, and now was not the time to try again.

"Please, my dears, I desire to be alone," I murmured softly, picking out one of the familiar basslines. Rapture reached to still the strings, silencing them and me. "We know," she stated flatly. "We've let you alone for two weeks, Riot, and enough is enough. You're too good to sit around moping as if you're an unpopular teenage boy who's just been rejected by the prom queen."

"Head of the cheerleading squad," Minx added with a wry grin, to which Rapture laughed. "Yes, the one who turns 'all the boys' heads'. Really, Riot, that's never been your style, to lie down and surrender yourself to another's whim. What on Earth is wrong with you?"

I strode across the room to press the record player back on. "That is by far the stupidest question you have ever asked me," I sneered as I picked up right where the last bar left off. "I should ask the very same of you. Why are you two so lighthearted, seeing as how my perfect match, and the industry clout she would have provided us, is lost to me forever?"

One gave a knowing look to the other, and both my leading ladies erupted in a fit of effervescent laughter that shone a ray of light through the murk in my soul. With sympathy radiating from her gentle smile, Rapture lifted the Strat from off of my chest and came behind me to wrap her arms around my shoulders, while my sweet Minx knelt in front of me and inched herself between my thighs.

"Darling Rory, have you not figured it out yet?" She cooed to me, running a delicate finger up the ripples of my abdomen so that my breath caught in my throat.

"_We_ are your perfect match," Rapture responded for her, whispering the words wetly in my ear. I shivered then, and not from the physical sensations both of them were coaxing from my reluctant body. I shivered because I knew all in that one moment just how far I'd careened in the wrong direction. On one side of me was my headstrong yin, and below me my vivacious yang. The fates had given me two of the greatest gifts I'd ever had the privilege to recieve, a fact I'd chosen to ignore so I could chase after a mere wet dream. Here I had the women of my dreams securely by my sides all along.

I had been so wrong, I lamented as I reached to embrace the both of them, but I was also entirely capable of change. I was a chameleon in that sense, a man fully able to take charge of his own emotional capabilities. Now as the LP played on continuously, I took both Ingrid and dear Phoebe back to my bed, but not for sexual play. The three of us simply lay together, closing our eyes and drifting together on the same mental plane until sweet stillness had healed the chasm I'd once driven between us. It assured all of us that our course, at long last, had been corrected.

---

**TBC**


	7. Heart's Apocalypse, Part One

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Credit is given to Christy Marx, Hasbro/ Sony Wonder, and all entities therein. All rights are reserved, but I'm hoping they don't mind me borrowing for a bit. _

_Story's rated PG-13 for a reason. More of the usual, gals and pals. Stormer's little creation was inspired by a recent Tiffany song called "Piss You Off". (Yes, Tiffany. Go pick up her ' 00 album "The Color Of Silence", it's brilliant pop.)_

---

_Chapter 7: Heart's Apocalypse, Pt. One_

---

**Stormer**

"You're _shittin' _me!" Roxy's voice shrilled through the phone line static. "You mean you actually caught that skankbag slipping Jerrica's golden boy a roofie?" She cackled, and I heard the receiver being muffled on her end as she hollered my news to Clash. I snickered, too; I knew she'd react like this, and Roxy didn't disappoint. "What'd you do?"

"I did what any temporarily insane person would've done. I told everyone I could find what had gone down, and ended up down on all fours under the table - "

"Ooh, going down on all fours, huh?"

"Oh, shush, you're such a pervert. Anyway, I had to find evidence, cause of course no one's going to believe a 'Misfit' with a crazy story like that, and I ended up rooting around for the vial in front of that girl Danse."

"Ha, you lost your mind in front of a Holo-groupie! So you find it, or what?

"You know I did. Minx was dumb enough to leave the tainted glass behind, too, so we had plenty of evidence to present to Aja. She freaked, sent Craig and his buddies off to find Rio, and next thing I know she's dragging me and Danse all over the ship to find Jerrica. Guess where we finally find her? In Countess DuVoisin's bed, with Riot on top of her. Aja freaks out even _more_ - I mean, I thought I'd have to physically stop the woman from beating the tar out of the guy, but she didn't have to. Rio came bursting in to do it for her!"

She cursed again, the word coming out in a breathy hiss. "But they're still together, huh, Benton and golden boy?"

I shrugged. "From what I've gathered, Jerrica told Riot off and sent him packing, then ran off herself. Rio had to go catch up with her, but the two of them hashed it out, and I guess things are okay now. They're both honeymooning in Aspen as we speak."

She seemed to ponder this before quickly changing the subject. "So you and Little Benton are playing the New Year's Bash?"

"I booked us personally," I bragged. "Are you guys going to come and heckle us?"

This prompted another silence. "I dunno," she murmured. "Clash here still has a couple more days of Chanukah to sit through with Video and the fam, and Jetta's not due back from London until tomorrow. We gotta go pick her up at the airport and stuff."

I came right out and said it. "And Pizzazz?"

"She's...been out of town."

"Uh-huh."

"But I don't know where she went or anythin', I just know she's like, visiting someone. It's all she bothered to tell us before cutting out."

A smirk contorted my lips. Roxy Pelligrini never had been very adept at lying, especially to people she liked, so I knew it was mostly truth - just not the whole truth.

"Rox..."

Her breath exploded in a groan. "Aw, cut me a break, Stormer! Yeah, all right, we both know that ain't all there is but we both know what fills in the blanks, okay, so drop that snotty tone of yours!"

"I was only going to tell you not to worry about it."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Well, whatever. Look, I can't exactly speak for the British brat or Her Majesty, but me and Clash want to go. And if we can't get there in person, then we'll be throwin' shit at ya from the TV screen."

I grinned. "That's all I ask. Merry Christmas, Rox."

"And a hearty 'Bah Humbug' to all of you at Starlight Mansion," she quipped before unceremoniously hanging up on me. I shook my head and plunked the receiver back onto its hook.

Kimber was waiting for me when I finally showed up, acoustic in hand, in the Holograms' rehearsal space - a space I still felt a bit uncomfortable playing in. She smiled up at me from her own guitar.

"How'd it go?"

"She flipped," I said, perching myself on a nearby stool. "But in a good-Roxy kind of way."

"Not in the Runaway-Bulldozer Roxy way, huh?"

"It's Christmas. The bulldozer doesn't come out until at least Valentine's Day."

She giggled while off-handedly running through a few bars of our latest work-in-progress. We'd long since achieved the dream of recording our all-acoustic album, but there was one little melody that still wouldn't leave my brain; therefore, mastering had to wait until I'd gotten my act together. Whenever that would be.

"Come up with any lyrics for this thing yet?"

"I managed a little something," I teased her, hoisting my guitar onto my lap. "Wanna hear it?"

"You know I do." An impudent roll of those Carribean blue eyes. "So quit messing around and show me what you got, Misfit."

But I was way ahead of her, smirking, already past the intro and ready to spring into the first verse with a vengeance.

_"I bet you've never been kicked to the curb once your party finally ends_

_Well just when I thought that you'd left me for dead,_

_You wanna dust me off again_

_But I'm still here..."_

Kimber's sweet soprano piped up to blend with my own. "_...still here waiting in vain..."_

"Good one!" I told her, then added:

_"Did you think you could just throw me away _

_like last year's tacky outfit?_

_Well you created your Frankenstein _

_And now you gotta live with it._

_So here I am, here to stay_

_Seems this ain't your lucky day_

_Too bad that you think i'm leavin'_

_I'm here to make your life hell_

_Who cares if you don't believe me_

_You brought this on yourself_

_So sad that you think i'm leavin'_

_Who cares if you hate this song?_

_I'm gonna write another_

_Just to piss you off._

_Never did mind spending all your cash and crashing in your pad_

_I wonder where you'd be without your dear old Dad_

_Well, no shame here - tell it to your face_

_No one's gonna take my place!_

_Too bad that you think i'm leavin'_

_I'm here to make your life suck_

_That's fine if you don't believe me_

_I'm gonna call your bluff_

_So sad that you think i'm leavin'_

_Who cares if you hate this song?_

_We all should get together, put my album on_

_And play it all night long!_"

I heard a snort and quickly looked up. Kimber was shaking her head, grinning. "It's perfect!" She said, and chimed in with another lilting background vocal.

"_And here I am waiting.._

_Ain't going nowhere."_

I focused my energies now, punishing the downbeat on each chord; G minor, A, D major, G. Repeat. I imagined Pizzazz standing right in front of me, arms folded, challenging me with one of those infuriating childish pouts. My voice kept its sweet, amiable tone, but the lyrics all but snarled. I had to say I loved that contrast.

"_Too bad that you think i'm leavin'_

_I'm here to make your life hell_

_That's fine if you think I'm crazy_

_You brought this on yourself_

_So sad that you think i'm leavin'_

_Who cares if you want me gone?_

_I'm not gonna buy it; to tango it takes more than one_

_Too bad you've gone on without me_

_Damn shame that I know you'll fail_

_That's fine if you think you're crazy_

_- I know you all too well_

_So sad that you think i'm leavin'_

_I don't care that you'll write me off_

_You know I'll stay forever_

_So you can just piss off."_

G minor, A, D major, then a big flourish of a G chord that reverberated nicely inside the tiny insulated room. There was silence, then a series of snuffled breaths that built into hearty guffaws. Kimber wiped tears from her eyes.

"Ohmigod," she gasped. "It's outrageous. Literally. We so need to put that on tape, like, ASAP."

I could feel heat coloring my cheeks. "No kidding?"

"No kidding," she assured me with a pat on the arm. "In fact, I personally think it should be the first single off our new album. And, we should perform it at the New Year's Bash."

I snorted, imagining all my (former?) bandmates fuming from some lush V.I.P. area as they heard this coy little rant of mine. A smile spread across my face.

"In that case, we should really rehearse it a little more, don'tcha think?"

---

**Eric**

Ah, recreation time: an unbelievably easy opportunity to take my life back into my own hands. Daily I've passed it up in lieu of too many obstructions in my path, but today my path was my own.

Amazing, isn't it, the wonders a mere claim of insanity can do for a wanted man? For once in his pathetic life, Zipper had given advice of actual merit; I must say, I played it up like a pro. Nick Mann oughta watch his back.

I suppose one could argue my actions toward Jerrica Benton were those of a very violent intent, and I won't refute that. In fact, I'm not planning on altering the course of those actions. I've got an agenda to accomplish, friends, and I am, well, intent on doing so. At this point, Starlight is lost to me, Stingers' Sound - oh, I'm sorry, _Misfits' Music_, my mistake - is lost as well, and really, revenge makes more sense to me than anything else does. Unfortunately dear Pizzazz, the darkest light in my life, just might have caught on to me during some of our more lively supervised visitations. I'd seen that glint in her clear green eyes, and I knew the mental wheels were turning. This gave me pause, but as anyone from the Starlight camp would tell you, it certainly wouldn't slow me down.

It should be needless to say that I'd a plan prepared well in advance - add one more point for Zipper, whose long-winded prison rants contained invaluable information - and the time had come to execute it. Am I being redundant? Forgive me; I've been waiting a long time for this.

Anyways, as luck would have it, I'd been assigned to tending the communal vegetable gardens, a task I openly loathed but did not take for granted. I knew the security around here was sorely lacking as of late, which meant only one well-chosen RN stood in my way of the proverbial door to freedom. So while I pretended to toil in between rows of carrots and rot-infested tomatoes, I also surveyed all the RN's who'd been assigned to watch over us delusional freaks hoeing away in the soil. None of them fit the bill; they were all too attentive, too smart to let any patients slip off unnoticed. None of them, that is, until that naive succubus of an assistant was brought on board. She was a flighty sort, briefly reminding me of that meek little doe Stormer. Always the peacemaker, she was, I mused as I now crawled into a small, recently discovered crevasse beneath the tool shed. And what for? What good has peace ever done for anyone?

I bore this in mind while I waited, watching the lithe young thing count heads as she ushered the other patients back inside. When I heard the steel door slam, I let myself exhale. Just as I'd predicted; she'd forgotten all about me. Still, I waited as the hours passed, listening to my breathing as the declining sun plunged the Earth into darkness. I waited, listening for the night patrolmen and their K9 unit to pass me by - and they did, I'd planned ahead of time by scattering stolen mess hall meatloaf about the courtyard - until at last a stony silence took over. I smiled.

Triumphant but not overconfident (after all, that was how I'd bungled all this in the first place), I slithered out from my makeshift dwelling and carefully, very carefully inched my body underneath the electric fence. Closer, I panted to myself, getting closer.

My nostrils inhaled smoky desert air, and it sang to me of freedom. Freedom. The word echoed in my mind, inciting disturbing glimmers of memory from a song I knew I despised. It helped to keep me focused. Aches and pains were redolent in my tendons and muscles as I fully straightened up to dust off my uniform. I shed the blue button-down shirt, leaving the off-white wife-beater on. The pants I could do nothing about, but if all went well no one would take notice. And off I went, shambling down the remote dirt road as quietly as possible.

Pale gray light was just beginning to streak through the night sky when at last I reached my destination, a lone bus stop on the outskirts of San Bernardino. It wasn't long before the empty smoke-belching shuttle showed itself, opening its doors to me with a great gasp of blasted heat. The man slouched over the wheel appeared to more than qualify for the senior menu at Denny's, just from that rheumy gaze alone. It was quite obvious to me he'd long given up on caring about anything but a steady paycheck, let alone a suspicious looking stranger showing up at dawn mere miles from Patton Hospital and practically covered in topsoil. That could pass for motor oil, I realized, and hid my elation behind the sincerest smile I could muster.

"Car broke down," I said to the driver, gesturing over my shoulder. "'Bout twenty miles north."

The man's eyes didn't even blink. "Wan' me to take ya to a garage or somethin'?"

My attempt at a genial laugh came out a bit forced. "No, no, thank you. But if you don't mind, my wife's expecting me, and my house isn't far from here."

A bipartisan grunt was his only reply, followed up with a slight apathetic nod of acceptance. With a grin I dropped a twenty into his pocket - saved from the succubus' purse - along with a five for bus fare. "For helping me out," I drawled to the driver, who simply gave another nod as his fat hand stuffed the bill into his shirt pocket.

"Where you headed?"

"Oh, just drop me off a little outside Los Angeles," I called back, settling into a nearby seat. "That'll be fine. Thanks."

With another grunt and a yank of the gearshift, the shuttle grumbled onward to what would become I-215 South in less than an hour. I was certain of it. My insides agreed, trembling with a well-contained anticipation as I entertained fantasies of that lying blonde wench, sprawled out and broken on wet pavement, bleeding for me.

---

**Jerrica**

I stretched out like a satisfied cat, lazily swirling the steaming lavender-scented jets of water with my legs. My eyes opened again and I drifted a little closer to Rio as the snow fell outside our huge picture window. I wasn't used to being this relaxed; it was still unnerving, but it was also something I could definitely learn to like. His arm curled it's way out from behind me to lay itself over my shoulders. I let him share a brief kiss with me before returning to the view.

A silence settled then, one utterly opposite from the void "Jem" had wedged between us. It made me nostalgic for those nights we used to spend holding hands in his little red Fiat, pretending to pay attention to the movie while at the same time anticipating each other's next move. At first I had tried to fill the noiseless vacancy with pointless babbling, in need of some respite from the unbearable attraction. Rio had always smiled, nodded, turned up Led Zeppelin on the radio to drown me out. At last, his patience wore thin, and one night I found my babbling blissfully interrupted by his penetrating stare. I wouldn't ever be able to erase the memory of _that_ kind of quiet, the calm just before a passionate storm. I probably wouldn't forget the memory of stumbling into the house afterwards, either, trying not to wake my father and have him see firsthand the woman I'd become in a few spontaneous minutes of teenaged abandon. You'd think that after all that, things between Rio and I would have dissolved in a mess of miscommunication, but he and I were inseparable from that night on, bonded by the asylum silence granted us from our lives. It was so warm and comfortable being with him in those days, so very right and very wrong all at once, and I didn't care. Love made it okay to fling caution to the wind.

Marriage somehow had brought back that sense of comfort, despite all Riot's attempts at sabotaging it. At last, a true sign that all our dirty little secrets screaming for release had gotten their wish. The week had been spent relishing time away from raising responsible teenagers, from recording sessions and tax forms, from obsessions and denials long held dear. The idea of returning to the juggling act left me feeling a bit sad, hollow, even, but of course it was necessary. A recovering workaholic could only recover so much from her addictions - my husband probably knew this better than anyone on the planet.

Oh, well. Our little complimentary honeymoon suite was lovely - I'd made a mental note to send Rick Franklin a huge thank-you card for his generosity - but it paled in comparison to what waited for us at home; Raya was due to give birth virtually any day now, and Deirdre, whose debut album had already gone gold thanks to a number one single and a newfound teen idol status, had wasted no time in informing me that she was performing live at VTV's New Year's '90 bash along with Kimber & Stormer and the headlining Stingers (this made me shudder). Additionally, Kimber had promised me she and Stormer would debut material from their new all-acoustic album, which I for one couldn't wait to hear.

Hm. Stormer. Now there was a train of thought I'd actively avoided for a while.

All right, so she'd turned out to be a decent person under all that makeup and snotty Pizzazz-inspired attitude, that much was plain to me. She'd been a grateful houseguest, always offering to help in any way possible, and had quickly become a friend to most of my girls. Most importantly, she'd discovered Riot's trespasses at our reception before anyone else had, even my bodyguards, and helped lead the charge to my rescue. I couldn't count how many times I'd thanked her for that. She'd proven herself to be a valuable ally; still, didn't she have to return to her own allies at some point? As long as Stormer pulled her own weight, I'd made it clear she was welcome to stay at the mansion...but that had been over two months ago. Were relations between the Misfits really that strained? I'd never known them to spend that much time apart before; whispers had started to filter around the industry that they were splitting up, and this time the gossip seemed to be living up to its own hype. The idea didn't exactly fill me with dismay, but it did count as yet another irreparable shift in our lives.

My sigh must have come out a bit heavier than I'd realized; Rio's eyes flicked away from the window in my direction. "Penny for your thoughts?"

"Which one?"

"I'm aiming for the one that made you groan, but any of them will do."

"I groaned?"

He grinned and nodded. "Almost like you'd punched someone in the stomach and liked it."

I didn't quite laugh so much as I murmured, smirking to myself. "Yeah, Pizzazz. Or Riot. Or either of his succuba. The hot water's pretty much sucked most of the fight out of me, though." My head nestled comfortably in the crook of his shoulder.

"That's pretty specific," Rio commented with a laugh. "Sounds like we might need to stay a little longer, suck all the rest of that stress out of you. You're too dangerous otherwise."

"Nah," I said. "All I need to be mellow is you, this hot tub, and a check for Rick to purchase this whole suite. Just live out our lives here in Aspen's luxurious lap, what do you say?"

"I say you've had a bit more champagne than you're used to, my recovering workaholic," Rio quipped, and I smiled. Funny how it never unnerved me when he seemed to read my mind. He reached behind us for the bottle and two glasses. "Might as well finish it off and try to forget about leaving tomorrow, right?"

"Right." I took the filled goblet from him and clinked mine with his. "That way we can add blistering hangovers to our flight back and make it that much more depressing."

"Always the optimist," he joked, threading his arm around mine and taking a sip from his glass. "You can't start a new decade off with that kind of attitude." I studied him for a moment, then repeated the action, watching his face distort through the swaying, fizzing liquor.

------

**Raya**

One of the nicer things about being nine months pregnant was that everyone around you seemed to bend over backwards trying to make you comfortable. That was also the same thing that made the last stage of pregnancy so maddening, along with the fact that my baby, particularly, wasn't heeding nature's repeated eviction notices. My mother had told me time and again not to worry, Carlos had been almost three weeks late - although I sensed she was exaggerating this - and Jorge Jr. had done the same.

"It's in your genes, my Carmen," she'd say. "Your little girl will introduce herself in her own time."

"Mama, we still don't know if it's a girl _or_ a boy," would be my mildly irritated reply. (Mama, after recovering from the shock of my announcement and replacing her Virgin statue, insisted she'd seen a vision of me raising a child with long raven-black curls, like mine once were. She'd had dreams of this and was utterly convinced.) I trusted in her experience, though, and prayed every day for one of my many false contractions - also an Alonso family trait, Mama said - to turn out to be genuine. Still, it had been nearly two weeks since my predicted due date - two weeks of debilitating cramps, false alarms, and mad rushes to Cedar-Sinai that had left Luis and I in a constant state of exhaustion. We were wiped out already, and this was only the beginning, as Jem used to sing. There was no choice but to just keep waiting.

Tonight I'd opted to wait outside by the pool, maternity swimsuit and all. The mansion had morphed into a swarming hive of adrenaline, with everyone inside caught up in their own New Year's preparations. Everyone but Luis, that is, who was dutifully sitting on the concrete next to my lounge chair, his head gently lying on my distended belly. I smiled down at him.

"You don't have to sit there on that pavement, you know. There are other chairs."

Luis lifted his head to kiss my stomach. "Then I'd be neglecting both of you, Raya."

"That's silly. Will you please get up and actually make yourself comfortable? Please? At least go get a pillow or something. I promise I won't suddenly up and give birth right here on the patio."

He burst out laughing, a lovely hearty bellow of a sound, and reluctantly hoisted himself up. "At this rate, my darling, perhaps that would be preferable, ah?" A soft kiss was planted on my forehead.

Laughing, I rolled my eyes at him. "Just go."

He went. With his footsteps receding into the house, I had no reason to hide my wince. The cramps had returned in moderate force; not enough to send me into another panic, though, not yet.

"Raya?"

I looked up to find Terri at my side with a pitcher of ice water and a glass. "I thought you might not be feeling well, so I brought you this."

"Oh, honey, that's so sweet of you," I said, accepting the glass and taking a very long swig. Terri beamed and plunked herself down where Luis had been. "Thank you; I needed that."

She blushed. "You shouldn't let yourself get dehydrated in your condition, anyways. Are you sure you don't want to come out to dinner with us and Mrs. Bailey? It'll be fun."

"Mmm, you know I'd love to, but..." I gestured down with my hand. "I'm still eating for two, and one of us isn't all that hungry. Besides, Luis is terrified to let me do anything but lie around like a beached whale."

"You're not a whale." Terri's gaze was so stern I almost laughed at her. "You are _pregnant_, and it is a beautiful thing of nature."

"Whales are beautiful things of nature," I replied, trying so hard to keep the giggles contained. Terri's frown deepened. The giggle burst out of me, so hard I would have doubled over without the watermelon-stomach, so hard tears started flowing from my eyes.

"It's not funny, Raya," Terri said, but a smile was trying its best not to appear on her sunny face.

"You are adorable!" I managed to gasp, still laughing. "'A beautiful thing of nature', what a description! Only you, Terri."

"Whad'ya mean, only me?"

I opened my mouth to tell her it was just a little term of endearment, no one's making fun of you, you're a sweet girl - but all that came out was a sharp grunt. My hand flew to where it felt like someone had shoved a sword up into my abdomen. Then it happened again. _Oh no,_ I thought. _Of all the people in all the world to have to see this..._

Terri's eyes bulged. "Raya, are you okay? What's the matter? Is it time?"

Her questions came rapid-fire, without a chance for me to think or breathe. I grasped for her hand and then the armrest, slowly...oh so slowly lifting my heavy self out of the lounge chair. "Probably just another false alarm, Terri. Nothing to worry about. We'll just go for a walk around the block to ease the contractions and - oh!" Another sharp spasm shook me; still holding my hand, Terri eased me back down again. I grimaced.

"Where's Luis?" she demanded, practically dancing in place. Her braids whipped back and forth. "Is he here? Tell me he's here!"

"He...went in the house..." I said, gasping. The pains sure didn't feel false, not this time. By the time this occurred to me, Terri had fled into the mansion in search of my boyfriend, and I was keeping my breaths as rhythmic as possible. Time seemed to stop; my vision blurred.

Deeply in...pause...exhale _slowly_. Repeat. The Lamaze instructor's drill ran in a continuous loop in my mind. _I will not panic. I will_ not _panic. Remember your breathing._

I remembered. I closed my eyelids, focusing on the dirty red glow behind them, picturing myself at the top of the Aztec pyramids with Luis. The jungle sang around us; the other Holograms were singing below us, and I was in love, I was in -

I was in labor. Without warning, my womb gave a violent shudder and startled a cry out of me. Why was I wet? I thought, and stared down at a pool of fluid dripping from my thighs.

"Broken water," I mumbled to myself in Spanish, blinking. "My water...oh no..._Luis!_"

"...yes, please call them, Mrs. Bailey, that would be wonderful..."

I looked up at the sound of Luis' voice. He stood halfway between outdoors and in, holding the sliding door open with his foot and hoisting my suitcase with both hands. His rich laughter rang out again, but now it felt wildly inappropriate. "All right, all right, _Irene_, then. We'll call as soon as we have any news. Thank you, Irene." Luis turned his brilliant smile on me, shaking his head as he let the door snap shut behind him.

"Darling," he said, helping me out of the chair while I wobbled on gelatinous legs. A towel was being wrapped around my waist. "I thought you promised me you wouldn't give birth here on the patio."

"I lied," I retorted, feeling on the verge of tears. Luis led me back inside the house, ushering me past all the curious onlookers crowding the hallway and kitchen and into the bathroom.

"That's all right, honey," he crooned as he closed the door behind us. I heard the suitcase being dropped to the floor. "That's all right, we'll clean you up and get you to a doctor. You're going to be fine."

The cold porcelain of the sink made contact with my hands; I leaned all my weight against it while Luis stripped me of the swimsuit, wiped the fluid away with a wet towel, and helped me into fresh clothes. I felt so helpless I just wanted to cry. Another gripping contraction added insult to injury, and I couldn't stop it. I burst into tears, both from pain and embarrassment. Luis got up to fold me in his arms.

"Raya," he soothed me, "Raya, it's all right."

"God, I'm so scared, Luis!" My sob tried to bury itself in his chest. "The pain is unbearable already."

"I know. I know, darling, but this is why they have anesthetics. Come, we'll get you to the hospital and go from there, all right?"

"I'm so scared," I whispered again. Luis drew back and kissed me, then touched his forehead to mine, keeping eye contact. "You will be fine," he insisted gently.

"What if something goes wrong?" I warbled. "What if something happens to the baby?"

"Nothing will happen to the baby or to you that is not supposed to, _bonita_."

Someone was knocking softly on the other side of the door. I squeezed my eyes shut and sucked the wet fear back down the swell of my throat.

"Raya? Luis?" Shana's voice was gentle and yielding through the wood. "Aja's warming up the van; it's ready if you are."

"Thank you, Shana. We'll be right there." Luis then turned back to me. "_Are_ you ready? We can just sit here for a moment if you need to."

I needed to, oh heavens, did I ever. But the pain flared up in my womb again and ended up making the decision for me. "I'm ready," I managed, taking hold of his hand and allowing myself to be led out of the bathroom. Shana smiled at me and took hold of my other hand; together she and Luis helped me out of the house and into the van.

"Hang in there, Raya," Aja called to me once I had finally secured my bursting self behind a seatbelt. "We're gonna get you there, but the paparazzi might not make it easy for us. Try to take it easy, okay?"

"Oh, God," I whispered to the ceiling, clutching my belly protectively. _Please. _

Luis' arm pulled me close as I felt the van lurch and spin out of the mansion's driveway and onto the main road. Aja was again telling me not to worry (this as she flew through a red light, narrowly missing a delivery truck) and to try to relax; it would lessen the contractions, which, by the way, we should be timing by now. I barely heard her. My head rolled back, letting my eyes close and my lungs try to draw in steady breaths.

_To be continued in Part Two, hopefully coming soon._


	8. Heart's Apocalypse, Part Two

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, I profit from nothing. Credit is given to Christy Marx, Hasbro/ Sony Wonder, and all entities therein. Lyrics, except for Kimber and Stormer's "new" song, are from the "Jem" series, credit to Kinder/ Bryant. All rights are reserved, but I'm hoping they don't mind me borrowing for a bit. _

_Story's rated PG-13 for a reason. More of the usual, gals and pals. I'm also going to just jump out on a limb and assume that Video and Clash's hometown of Mulberry is in the great state of Texas. And that their families are Jewish. Because I can. And a few parts bounce between tenses a bit, but it's all for the sake of dramatics._

_Also, everything in this chapter is chronologically accurate and plausible, says Do the research if you don't believe me. ;) Thanks to everyone for being so patient; here's your reward:_

_

* * *

**Chapter 7: Heart's Apocalypse, Pt. Two**_

* * *

**Danse**

Well, now. This was a contentment I hadn't enjoyed for some time. Here I was, celebrating a holiday I'd never celebrated before, surrounded by Viv's immediate family - her mom and dad, who'd flown in from Texas to be with us, her Misfit cousin Clash _and_ her father Buzz, of all people - and accompanied by my own father. Candles were lit, both on the Menorah and on the candelabra at the center of our dining room table. The latkes Viv had taught me how to cook went over big, and so had the vegan turkey loaf both of us had dressed up and marinated without mercy. Amiable, gentle conversation bounced back and forth amongst us, and best of all...no secrecy. No hiding. Nobody had to make any heavy-handed "announcements". It was just _known_ that Viv and I were together, and that was it. Easy. So effortless. Where had these people been all my life?

Next to me, Viv gave a languid stretch and pushed her chair away from the table. "Coffee, anyone? Dessert? I found this wonderful little bakery nearby and they just make the _best_ sufganiyou..."

"Mmm...thank you, darling, but no." Viv's dad stretched in an amusingly similar fashion to his daughter's and patted his wife's hand. "It really is getting to be late."

"Oh, come on, Dad, you mean you're not going to ring in the new year with us? You flew all this way and stayed all eight nights just to back out on me now?" Vivian set two full mugs of coffee in front of her parents with a wry little grin. "I have to say, I'm very disappointed in you two."

"She's right, John," Buzz drawled, etching lines between his molars with a toothpick. "You're bein' a killjoy...not that it _surprises_ me any, 'course. Have some damn doughnuts already."

"I'll get you some, Daddy!" The chair underneath Clash knocked back against the wall as she jumped to accommodate him. "C'mon, cousin, I'll help you in the kitchen."

"Gee. Thanks." Viv shot me a _please-help-me_ look; I stifled a laugh and waved her away. She sighed and followed Clash. "Mom? Dad? Custard or jelly? I've got both."

"Custard would be great," Mr. Montgomery conceded with a smile he directed at me. "We've thoroughly enjoyed our stay here, especially getting to meet you - " his smile widened - "But that plane is leaving pretty early, and I like to get at least a little bit of sleep before being groped by various strangers at airport security."

"Dad." Viv set a full platter of doughnuts in front of her parents and sat back down. "Please. No one gropes you at airport security unless you're packing a bazooka in your suitcase."

"Old mild-mannered John?" Buzz coughed out a bright laugh. "Y'never know. They say it's always the quiet ones."

"Oh, stuff a pastry in it, Buzz."

And just like that, one Montgomery brother had silenced the other with a strategic shove of a donut. Buzz squawked through the dough, eyes wide, as he himself shot back in his chair. Beside me, my father nearly choked on his drink, coughing and laughing simultaneously.

"Father!" I stood up to slap him between the shoulders, all the while staring at Buzz. "Are you okay? Speak to me!"

Viv's mom burst out laughing; so did Clash. John reclined in his chair, looking quite pleased with the chaos he'd atypically caused. Buzz managed at last to chew and swallow the pastry and let out a hearty guffaw. "John, you son of a gun! Imagine, attacking your own brother with dessert on the holiest of days!"

"Yeah, Dad!" Vivian gaped at her father. "Maybe I ought to check your suitcase myself."

The room erupted with hoots of laughter. A shrill ringing sound rose above the good-natured cacophony. Gasping and grinning, I stood and stumbled out from behind the dining table and made my way towards the kitchen. I picked up the receiver on the fourth ring.

"Hello?" I ventured, waving at our guests for a bit of silence. The opposite end of the line was quiet at first. A frown crossed my features. "Who is this, please?"

"Danse?"

I blinked. Was I dreaming? It couldn't be!

"Stefan?"

"Danse, it's me."

_Holy..._ I spun around behind the edge of the wall, twisting the phone cord in my fingers. Surely the others could hear my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. Why was he calling? How did he get this number? What on Earth was going on?

"It's good to hear from you, Stefan," I finally stammered. "How have you been?"

"Life is good. You sound well."

"No complaints, I guess." _Except for you calling out of nowhere on New Year's Eve, interrupting my family's Chanukah dinner for apparently no reason and scaring me half to death._ I tried to keep my tone as nonchalant as possible. "What's up?"

Oh, I could just picture that man pursing his lips as he searched for what to say next. And if it was any kind of begging for my hand, I'd hang up on him, I swore it. His silence irritated me. "Stefan? I'm sure you didn't go to all this trouble tracking me down for no reason. What is it, please?"

"It's just that - ah, I hate to have to tell you like this, over the phone, but I felt you needed to know."

"Know what?"

He gave a great, heaving sigh that crackled through the phone line. "That - that Nadia has been seen again here in Zagreb."

There it was, that sickening sinking feeling in my stomach that happened whenever I felt my world crashing down around me. Stefan was still talking. "I-I just knew that she'd been in hiding again for some time and that you must have been wondering. Looking for her. Please forgive me for dropping such a bomb on you, Gisele - "

"Don't _call _me that!" I flared, not really knowing why, but it sure felt good to fire back. "I am Danse to you, Stefan, only Danse, and if this call is some strange ploy for my affections, you should know that there's no way it will work - "

"This is no ploy, Danse, I speak the truth. In fact, I have proof. And I tell you, I have seen her with my own eyes." Silence again. "You know I am not Victor; I would never attempt to deceive you in any way." More silence; the noise in the other room had suddenly hushed. "Look, I have seen her passing through the Zagreb Ballet headquarters, I have even seen her rehearsing after hours, when most have gone home for the night. I believe she's trying to rebuild her reputation in the community so that she may take Krosach's place as director; his various understudies are...not quite as skilled in the department of planning, and the ballet has suffered because of it, believe me."

"Uh-huh." I held the receiver away from my mouth and let myself sigh. "So you're sure she's left the states and resides in Zagreb again."

"Would you like her address? I took the liberty of doing some research."

Her address...oh my. Oh my, I could feel pressure building in my skull. Hazily I felt around for a pen and paper and bent over the kitchen counter to write. "Please." I scribbled it down on the pad and stared at my handwriting. This couldn't be for real...it had to be a mistake. It had to be, didn't it?

"Stefan, you're absolutely sure it's her?"

"Danse, there is no doubt in my mind." I could hear the smile creeping into his suave voice. "I have to tell you, my heart about stopped the first time I spotted her. I thought she was you."

Now I was smiling a little in spite of myself. He was still the charmer. "You don't say."

"Oh, but I do! It was so good to see you again, in any form."

I cast my eyes heavenwards. "Thank you, for going out of your way to tell me this. That took a lot of courage."

"It was nothing," he lied, his voice dropping to a near murmur. I could hear other voices joining his in the background; Stefan sighed. "I'm afraid I have to cut this short, Danse. Rehearsals begin in less than an hour."

"Less than an hour?" My eyes glanced at the clock on the stove. "But Stefan, it's..." I paused to calculate. "It's four in the morning over there! Are you insane?"

"No, but our newest director is." Someone in the background called out to him; Stefan distantly said something back in what sounded like French. "I'm sorry, Danse. Duty calls, or in this case yells at people."

My fingers twisted themselves more tightly into the phone cord as my thoughts raced. "Goodbye, Stefan. Thanks again."

"Best of luck to you, Gise - _Danse_. Give your father and Ms. Montgomery my regards."

Just like that, the line went dead. It took a few moments for me to be able to hang up the phone and rejoin the party. Clash was gone, and Viv was already standing to hug her parents and Buzz goodbye. Father still lingered at the dinner table, as if he already knew.

"Promise me you'll come to Mulberry for Passover," her mother was entreating, the words muffled by Viv's locks. "Mom, these days, I can't promise my girlfriend I'll be home for dinner," she joked. It still struck me how little the word "girlfriend" phased her parents. "But I'll try." Viv broke free from her mother's arms to embrace her father. "Thanks for coming, Dad. I know it was hard to get time off from work..."

"Nah, they owe me this. I deserved a vacation." John patted his daughter on the back briskly and leaned to open the door for his wife. "We'll see you again soon, I hope."

"Me too, Dad." Viv met me at the kitchen entrance and slipped her arm around my waist. I returned the gesture and waved to the Montgomerys, joining Viv in a chorus of happy New Year's and Chanukah wishes. The door shut softly behind them.

My father eased himself up out of his chair and gave me a glance. "I hope you'll allow me to help you clean up in some way," he said. I gave him a smile I hoped didn't betray the turmoil boiling inside my stomach. "That's okay, Dad. You're our guest; why don't you relax for a while in the den, and I'll bring you some more coffee. Sound good?"

His eyes glistened with soft suspicion. "Just let me know if you need any help," he said simply, kissing my cheek perfunctorily as he retreated from view. I sighed and went into the kitchen to follow up on my promise. Viv looked up at me from the kitchen counter. "Well, look at us. We pulled it off. Everything went off without a hitch, huh?' Excitedly she began clearing dishes from the table and I followed suit without a word. She tuned the radio to the Limp Lizards song playing on KJEM and sang along under her breath. I turned on the faucet and began scrubbing out a saucepan, glancing over at her every so often.

"What's the matter?" She said to me a few songs later. "You're awfully quiet all of a sudden."

I bit my lip and focused on the soapy water. "Viv...that call was from Stefan."

The radio volume shot down instantly. I cringed.

"What did he want?"

I placed the pot back in the sink and turned to her. "Nadia's been seen in and around the Zagreb Ballet headquarters. Stefan knew I'd been looking for her and - "

"You don't say. And how exactly did he know that?"

"Oh, honey, please don't start. Look, I guess he just assumed and sometimes assumptions are correct, okay? Anyways, he got a hold of her current address." I held the piece of paper aloft. "See?"

Pursing her lips, Vivian took the paper and scanned it quietly. She handed it back and paced a little around the kitchen, her gaze fixed on the floor. "So?" I ventured. "What do you think?"

"I don't know, bunny. What do you think? She's your mother."

I made a scoffing sound. "Please, don't remind me." My back turned on Viv; I blinked tears back at the bubble-filled sink. Her hand reached out to warm my shoulder, followed by a sympathetic embrace.

"What are you gonna do?" Her breath tickled my neck, making me shiver. "I don't know," I said, and I meant it. Part of me was screaming out for revenge; another part was curling up in the fetal position and the rest of me was trying to shut the screaming part up. "I mean, I have no idea. At all."

"You must have some idea." Silence. "I can feel it in your posture, Danse."

I grinned. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

I felt her shrug. "That's what you named your alter ego, right? That's what you call yourself when you get up on that stage and show your strengths."

"Oh, please. You make me sound like 'Jem' or something."

"Everybody's got to hide somewhere."

That got to me. It really did. I slipped out from under her and retreated to the warmth of the living room, handing my father his coffee without a word and curling up in a ball on the couch. Vivian soon joined me. "Gisele, come on now. I didn't mean to insult you. I meant to, I don't know, empower you or something."

"To do what?" I mumbled to my knees, trying to ignore my father's presence.

"Whatever your gut tells you is best, bunny. I'm not in much of a position to tell you what that is." Her lips were at my ear again. My eyes closed as my body responded accordingly. "I'm going to leave you alone to think about it, okay? I'll be in the bedroom with a stack of storyboards on my lap if you need me."

"Okay."

We kissed briefly; I turned my head back to the dark and silent television as her footsteps retreated away from the couch. Immediately I reached for the remote and clicked the television on to silence the clamoring in my head. It was already tuned to VTV, and the image of hundreds of holiday revelers gradually brightened the screen.

_God, please. What do I do? I don't know what to do, God, please..._

"Gisele?" Father ventured. I glanced at him in response.

"Nadia's in Zagreb again," I said in a dead voice, turning back to the TV. "That was Stefan calling to tell me so."

He was silent for a few moments, taking periodic sips from his cooling mug. I let the bright moving pictures hypnotize me into a state of numbness.

"I see," he finally said. More silence. Then, "Vivian is right, you know. I promised I'd help you find her, and I'll keep that promise if that's what you want, Gisele. If it isn't, then I'll stay here with you until you're ready for me to go. Either way..."

He didn't need to say it aloud. I closed my eyes.

I don't know exactly how long it took me to reach a decision, but my father had dozed off in his chair by the time I'd gained enough strength to lift myself off the couch. Viv was still awake and reading when I appeared in the bedroom doorway, feeling twelve years old inside. She glanced at me and removed her reading glasses expectantly, waiting.

I took a very deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"How soon do you think we can fly out?"

Viv smiled at me and reached for her purse.

* * *

"Bunny." Nudge, nudge. "Hey, bunny."

Dragging myself out of the coma of sleep, I lifted my head off of my father's shoulder and looked at the woman I loved with bleary eyes. She smiled and showed me the face of her watch. I could barely hear her voice over the dull roar of the jet engines. "Look. It's almost 1990."

I smiled back wearily and settled back into an already jet-lagged slumber. _A new year. An entirely new decade. A new beginning...my God, I can hardly wait._

* * *

**Pizzazz**

I checked my Rolex for the umpteenth time and growled under my breath. "Where the hell is Constance?" I griped over the roar of Jetta's hair dryer, swinging open the door to my shoe closet and rooting around for my new Manolo's. "We should have left a half hour ago."

"Since when do you give a crap about being somewhere on time?"

I glared at my second-in-command and returned to my search. "It's the _principle_ of the thing, Rox. If we're gonna show up Stormer, then we gotta all show up together. It's very simple logic."

From the bathroom, the roar of the dryer finally cut out just in time to reveal Roxy's irritated sigh. I chose to ignore it and bent to pluck my treasure out from under a pile of fake furs. "Look, do you want a good view of the stage or not? Plus, I wanna keep an eye out for Deirdre. Poor little dear's making her public debut tonight, and I need to make sure she doesn't do or say anything stupid." I wobbled in place while trying to slide the shoes on. Jetta emerged from the bathroom, fluffing her mane and giving her black sequined minidress a demure tug. "I don't know about this thing, 'Zazz. I'm not too keen on sporting things that advertise me bum to the world if I bend over."

"Well, then don't bend over, honey. Again, simple logic!"

Downstairs, someone slammed the front door hard enough for the vibration to shake the floor.

"Ugh, cripes almighty!" A tart voice exclaimed from somewhere in the stairwell. "Sorry I'm late, girls. Friggin' family and all."

I smirked and stuck my head out the bedroom door. "Yeah, well, next time just make like a true Misfit and ditch them already!"

"And make next year's holiday season that much more fun? Count me the hell out," Clash puffed, pounding her way up the steps in what appeared to be black platform heels. I liked them. Almost more so than my new Manolo's, actually. "This 'true Misfit' takes enough shit from Vivian as it is. You want more, ditch her yourself."

"Happily."

I excused myself to go search the downstairs bath for my favorite lucky shade of lipstick, humming to myself on the way. I felt good. I felt all right tonight. My clients were reeling in the hits, my band was in full recovery from Stormer's...departure, and I was totally ready to celebrate a fresh start, a new beginning. An entirely new era for the Misfits.

"Don't bother waiting up for me tonight, Matilda," I sang out in the direction of the kitchen. "Just leave the system unarmed so I can get in the house without those Dobermans trying to chew my ass off, m'kay?"

It took me a few seconds before I realized she hadn't bothered replying. Usually she'd at least offer a snarky "yes, miss" or something, but the only thing I heard was the blaring high-pitched whine of the TV frequency. I paused in the middle of applying lipliner and made my way slowly towards the source of the sound. "Matilda?"

I found her standing at the counter, staring at the television while her knife hovered motionless over a pile of chopped vegetables. "Lord have mercy," she muttered, shaking her head. "Lord have mercy on us all." My good mood, and my stomach, hit the floor when I saw what had captured her attention.

The same series of images flashed across the screen in nauseating rhythms. I stared.

_It's me this time._ That's all I could think. That's all my brain kept screaming at me while it willed my feet to move. Eventually I made them obey and slowly backed out of the doorway. Maybe Matilda hadn't heard me after all...was I safe to...?

I snorted at the idea. Safe? Utter bullshit. Pizzazz Gabor knew how and when to take care of herself, and now was not going to be an exception, thank you. Not at all.

I slipped the Manolo's off and held them with two crooked fingers while I crept my way towards Daddy's study. He'd been long gone since noon, off to schmooze with a few of his buddies from Tokyo, big timers with the Nikkei index. Good for him, but better for me, I thought, rummaging in the bottom left drawer of a file cabinet hidden in the corner of the room. The keys glistened at me from the depths; I snatched them up and slid the drawer shut without a sound. I stopped and listened for passersby...no one came. Good. I turned to the looming glass cabinet, fumbling with the keys for something like an eternity.

"Hey Pizzazz!" Roxy squawked distantly. "What the hell, the limo's here! Get a move on!"

Damn! The keys dropped; I scrambled for them and resumed the operation. Slowly. Slowly. Don't jam the lock...

"Jesus Christ, keep your panties on! I'll be right down. God!"

After much sweating and much more cursing, the latch clicked open at last; I wasted no time snatching what I needed and stuffing it firmly down in the bottom of my evening bag. I made sure that everything else appeared untouched before taking a last look around and leaving the study, even if on shaky legs. The others stood waiting impatiently by the long black vehicle. Roxy smirked at me.

"What kept ya?" She cracked. "You fall into the can or somethin'?"

"Oh, shut it, Roxanne."

"Touuuu-chy."

"I _said_ shut it."

Ugh, _Jesus_. On top of everything, on top of Deirdre's big powwow and that damned Stormer, now there was this soap opera bullshit. Again. I sighed, attracting the others' attentions, but as usual I completely ignored them and focused on myself, drawing out as much confidence as possible. I needed quiet time if I was gonna prepare for this.

**

* * *

Eric**

Knife in hand, I gradually managed to weave my way through the sea of revelers clogging the whole of the Venice boardwalk. Of course I'd completely overlooked the fact that of all nights, I'd decided to do my dirty business on New Year's Eve; therefore, instead of doing things the simple way by offing Jerrica in the comfort of her home, I was now forced to hunt her down in public. Nothing I hadn't handled before, granted, but a major inconvenience to me all the same. Thankfully, the people of Los Angeles had put on the airs of New Yorkers tonight, the way they all decided to ignore this strange "security officer" trying to hide his bloodied hands behind his back. (Well, I'm sorry, but that callous dullard just wouldn't give in to me peacefully. I certainly hadn't meant to produce any unnecessary casualties, but that's life, as they say. There hadn't been any other method with which to accost his uniform.)

Just ahead the crowd began to thin out, indicating that I should be at the ready. A few more uniformed men stood unwavering in front of a tightly settled arrangement of trailers. I flashed one of them the dead man's badge with the hand less bloodied, offering a hint of a smile.

"Uh, I've been sent to deliver a message to a Mrs. Jerrica Benton-Pacheco?"

The guard frowned; not exactly an encouraging sign. "Sir, I'm not entirely certain that she is on the premises."

I flashed the badge again. Thank goodness the gentleman this outfit had belonged to posed enough of a resemblance. "Oh yes, I'm sure she is. I was informed by my management that her sister was performing tonight and that Mrs. Benton-Pacheco was intent on attending the show."

Still frowning, the guard hesitantly glanced at his friend, who retrieved his walkie-talkie out of his utility belt and switched it on. I pretended not to listen in on the mumbled conversation and waited, forcing myself not to move in any way. The second guard gave me a once-over glance and ended his transmission.

"You may be able to find her in Kimber Benton's trailer. Fourth down on the left."

"Thank you, sirs," I said, tipping my hat to both of them before continuing on my way.

I glanced around me upon reaching my destination; too many people were milling about, too many eyes watching, witnessing. Quickly I took advantage of the shadows and backed myself against the pod's cool aluminum siding. Aside from the cadence of human traffic, I could detect no other sounds. The inside of the pod seemed to be occupant-free.

Noticing a tiny window adjacent to me, I sought out an old discarded crate and balanced myself on it as discreetly as possible. Once my eyes adjusted to the sudden light, I was relieved to spot my coveted prey bent over a makeup table, no doubt dolling herself up for her little sister's big night. Pity that she wouldn't live to see it, but like I said, that's life. I couldn't change the facts; I could only do my best to make things right again.

I decided the best course would to simply use the element of surprise. If I gave her a chance to breathe, she might use it to scream. I couldn't afford her that luxury here. Besides, I'd lost the desire to watch her suffer. I just wanted this over with.

Jerrica put down the tube of eyeliner she'd been using, contemplated her reflection, and resumed the process on her other eye. My presence had so far gone undetected.

"Hey! Are you gonna come out of there tonight or what?"

The disembodied voice seemed to come from nowhere. It damn near startled me off of my perch, in fact, but Jerrica had apparently been expecting it. "Oh, geez...I'll be right there!" She called out. "Just do me a favor and tell LinZ I'm on my way, okay?"

"Okay, but hurry it up!" The disembodied voice replied. Jerrica continued her preparations.

A sigh collapsed out of me. I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. My window of opportunity had suddenly shrunk to a quarter of its previous size, leaving me nearly nothing to work with. Time was of the essence, but patience was still key. The beat of my heart seemed to be audible now as I slithered along the side of the trailer, knife in hand, ready to pounce on anyone blocking my path to freedom, but there was only empty space to greet me. I did not take this for granted. Instead I strode up the flimsy front steps and rapped on the door, all smiles and congeniality when it finally opened.

"Message for a Mrs. Jerrica Benton-Pacheco?" I said to the blonde, who did not return my grin. She frowned; her pretty red lips, much to my horror, parted as if to voice a loud, shrieking objection. Fresh adrenaline, or maybe panic, surged in my blood, driving me forward out of the shadows to throw my arms around Jerrica's torso. Her eyes bulged. I managed to clap my hand over her mouth just in time.

"Oh, come now, Jerrica darling, please don't be like that," I soothed. The knife poking at her belly emphasized my message, I was sure. "Look, I don't enjoy this any more than you do, but both of us know it's the only logical answer to our situation, no?"

A tortured sound tried to burst its way out of her mouth. I shifted us both to ensure that it didn't. "I understand. Believe me, I do. Don't you think I've carefully considered _all_ of my options before taking action?"

She gave a miserable moan behind my hand. I sighed, sad for her.

"I know, darling, I know, but it's the only way. I'm sorry."

With a stealth that surprised even me, I managed to maneuver us both back down the steps and onward past the rest of the trailers while keeping a sharp eye out for any interference. Jerrica panted and heaved in my arms. Once even the thought had driven me to a mad level of arousal; now it only filled me with pain. Maybe once this was over she and I could both achieve peace. Maybe after this was over, after Jerrica was out of the way, I could try to regain Pizzazz's trust. Maybe even her - oh, dare I say it? - even her love.

**

* * *

Stormer**

"Oh, man, will you listen to that!"

Kimber and I grinned at each other, heartened by the uproarious applause that greeted our announced names. "Yeah. We're totally gonna slay 'em out there," I said, knocking my fist with hers in a little good-luck gesture. Her eyes sparkled up at the swaying spotlights as both of us ascended the tiny makeshift stairwell. The cheers and shrieks grew positively deafening once we stepped onstage. Unreal.

I slung my guitar over my head and immediately started into the song's intro as Kimber took her place at the mike. Oh, I knew exactly who was watching me from their private VIP section, all right. They weren't being all that covert about it, and I could just feel Pizzazz staring at me, aiming imaginary daggers at my flesh. Well, fine with me. That stuck-up bitch wanted a show? I'd damn well _give_ her a show.

_"I bet you've never been kicked to the curb once your party finally ends_," I sang, purposely making eye contact with each former bandmate. Roxy winked at me, nodding her head in approval. The other three wore the same disappointed scowl, Pizzazz's growing meaner and more threatening with each building stanza. There was Kimber's background vocal - my cue for the chorus. My gaze switched back to the enraptured crowd.

"_Too bad that you think i'm leavin'_

_I'm here to make your life hell_

_Who cares if you don't believe me_

_You brought this on yourself..."_

To my delight, the crowd seemed to love it. They laughed and _ooh_'ed like a talk-show audience at each indelicate punchline and clapped as one to the beat, like we were freaking Bon Jovi or something! My guitar duetted not-so-gently with Kimber's, and as we pushed the song into a rapid, nearly blistering crescendo, I leaned over to gauge the Misfits' reactions again. I had to stifle my laughter as I sang to them, but amazingly enough they were the ones having the worst time not cracking up. That disappointed anger? All but gone.

"_It's so sad that you think i'm leavin'_

_Who cares if you write me off_

_You know I'll stay forever_

_So you can just piss off."_

I looked each one of my bandmates in the eyes as Kimber and I ended the number with exaggerated flourish. I held my head high, my heart thumping confidently in my chest. Not one of them looked away, and Pizzazz was the one who nodded at me, lips smirking.

_Yeah, all right, your point is made_, her sharp green eyes conveyed. _You're a true Misfit after all._

Euphoria overcame me as I smirked back, skipping around to thank the audience and follow Kimber backstage. "Ohmigod," I heard her say as we thumped down the florescent-lit corridor of stairs. "Ohmigod, Mary, did you see their_ faces_? Talk about outrageous!"

"I sure did, and it sure was."

Hand in hand we practically danced into the makeshift trailer park, grinning at all the stage hands and techies applauding for us. "Oh, it was nothing, boys and girls," Kimber said, grinning bashfully. "Nothing?" I said to her, giggling. "That's crap; we totally stuck it to them!"

"I'll say."

I turned around to face the source of the voice. The crowds had parted for Roxy, Jetta, Clash and Pizzazz to find us; my former idol struck an authoritative stance before me and folded her arms over her chest. I stood my ground.

"Beat it, Benton," she said to Kimber. "I gotta talk to my bandmate alone."

Kimber and I looked at each other warily. "Yeah," she finally said. "Yeah, you do that, Pizzazz." She disappeared into our trailer and closed the door behind her. Pizzazz's attention turned back to me.

"So I'm your bandmate again, am I?" I leaned against the cool metal, my arms folded. "Hm. Good to know."

Pizzazz cast a glance at Roxy. "Stormer, will you just forget about it already?"

"If that's the way you want it, fine, I will."

"No! No, I mean forget about what happened when I signed Deirdre and all of that stuff. Stormer, c'mon, I'm a bitch. I'm a rotten, selfish bitch. I can't be anything but."

"You could try being a decent person once in a while."

"Like I said, I can't be anything but a bitch. And I _know_ that's why you love me. Why you love us all. We're Misfits. Bitches. Partners in crime."

"I don't love you," I retorted with an evil smile. "I'm a Misfit, and you're spewing pure bullshit, because Misfits don't love anyone but themselves."

Pizzazz cackled and threw her arms around me. I was utterly stunned.

"Pizzazz. What are you doing?"

"Trying my hand at being a decent person," she mocked. I rolled my eyes and resigned myself to gratefully embracing her back. "All right, all right. Just remember practice makes perfect."

Giggles surrounded the two of us as Roxy, Clash and Jetta made it a group hug. I squinched my eyes shut against the tears that threatened to scatter my aloof demeanor to the night. We stayed piled together like that until LinZ Pearce came striding up beside us, her jaw clenched. "Excuse me, ladies." She rapped on our trailer door abruptly. "Kimber? Can you come out here for a moment, please?"

The door opened; Kimber stepped out, adjusting her bathrobe. "What's up, LinZ?"

LinZ glanced at us before looking back at Kimber. "Well, it's nothing to be alarmed about. Nothing at all, really."

See, right then when she said that my stomach dropped on the floor. From the look on Pizzazz's face, hers did too. Whenever someone says there's nothing to be alarmed about, there's _always_ cause for alarm.

"It's just that, well, I can't find Deirdre. And neither can anyone else. And she's due to hit the stage in twenty minutes." LinZ spun to glance about the room, as if Deirdre would magically appear before her eyes, problem solved. Pizzazz was frowning. "But I just checked in on her, in this same trailer, like, right before Stormer went on. Because _you _tightwads were too friggin' cheap to give my star performer a trailer of her own." She folded her arms. " You yanking our chains here, Pearce? You seriously can't find her?"

"I can't, no. No one can."

All the color drained from Kimber's face. I reached for her hand and patted it. "It's okay. It's okay, she's probably on her way to the stage or something."

"God, she had better be," LinZ grumbled under her breath, and stalked away.

"What's up?" Roxy was asking Pizzazz. I looked over at our fearless leader; her jaw was clenched, but there was no sign of a brewing tantrum. The green eyes that had just welcomed me back into the circle met Roxy's suspicious stare.

"Nothing. Nothing. Just...just...I'll be right back, okay? Don't go to any after parties without me."

And with that, she ducked into the thickening crowd before any of us could raise an objection, fumbling around for something in her purse as she hurried away. I watched her leave, an all-too-familiar dread bubbling up in my stomach.

**

* * *

Riot**

Pure, sweet adrenaline surged through my entire body as the song utterly possessed me, its chords vibrating deep in my chest. The rhythm pounded steadily, burning in my loins. Minx's synth fluttered above it all in a glorious, almost religious melodic progression while Rapture's guitar waged a lusty war against my own. I was delirious with excitement at the thought of performing this live for a captive audience, and with the feeling of being one with the universe through my art. Truly I felt alive.

"Hey, man, you ready?"

The sudden voice removed me from the delirium of my stage fantasy; my eyes opened and took in all the mundane trappings of the Stingers' dressing quarters, then took in the sight of a good friend waiting for me with drumsticks in hand.

"Always, Randy, my friend. Always."

"Let's get a move on. Minx and Rapture are still getting dressed."

I pursed my lips in amusement. As gloriously vain as they were, my girls never took their time preparing for a show unless in the process both had become...distracted...without me. I gathered this was presently the case, and smirked to myself, wondering when and if our new touring drummer Mr. James would catch on to this long-standing ritual. Who knew; perhaps he already had and had enough good conscience to leave it be. Yes, I thought, that was probably so. That was why Randy James had been allowed temporarily into our world in the first place. That, and the vibrantly primal element his live drums added to the Stingers' aural spectacle. Stepping outside into the fresh night air, I strode over to the adjacent trailer and rapped on the door.

"Minx. Rapture. Time to go on, my dears." I paused, listening. "Come," I said more softly to the wood, "there will be plenty of time for us to celebrate later."

I heard a soft, disappointed moan and a light scuffling. A moment passed and Rapture opened the door, hastily fluffing her locks with one hand. Minx smiled at me from her impromptu perch on the makeup table as she re-fastened the snaps of her jet black bodice. I smiled back; how I adored them, I thought as I watched both women saunter out of the pod with languid, sensual grace. How flawlessly they complimented myself, and each other, in every way. I noticed Randy watching them, too, from the doorway and openly grinned at him. Yes. Yes, he was well aware.

"You're a lucky man, Riot," he murmured appreciatively. I laughed.

"I am," I agreed. "They are such perfect creatures. True daughters of Aphrodite herself."

"Oh, yeah." Flanked on either side by my team of personal bodyguards, both of us lingered behind so as not to lose sight of our exquisite view as we headed for the main stage. "I'd be in a great mood too if they were my bandmates."

"They are."

"Only while you're providing me with steady employment," he quipped, prompting another laugh from me. "You must not think much of me, to see me only as your superior."

"What? It's true. I've only got a year to play alongside you - that's how long the world tour is scheduled for, right?"

"Correct. And I don't mind telling you I am simply beside myself with anticipation at the mere thought."

"Yeah?"

I nodded, smiling to myself. "My plans for the Stingers' futures are massive in scope, my friend. This world tour and new album are just the beginning of what I have in store, believe me."

Randy turned his head to me. "I know. I played some of your new demos again today before soundcheck; you've really outdone yourself this time, man."

"I know," I said, my smile widening. It was all I could do not to tell him how much of my pain had driven the album into creation, how much of my grief bled through the music in the distorted guitars, in the driving bass lines and in my lyrics, all of which had been written in the wake of my massive failure with Jem - no, not Jem. Jerrica Benton-Pacheco. Constantly I needed to remind myself of this, to heal. And I _would_ heal; it was only a matter of time and distance. Was I not Riot? I was far above any damage a mere woman could inflict.

"All that playing along to _Dark Side of the Moon_ must've really paid off, huh?" He said with a well-timed wink. I rolled my eyes at him; the man knew my habits all too well. "You amuse me to no end. My sides are splitting as we speak."

Our jovial mood reinforced to me how recharged, how rejuvenated my outlook on life had become. The new material had been recorded, compiled, and sent out to various record companies, just like the old days struggling in West Germany. There had indeed been a bidding war, but I was not content to merely be begged for anymore. The request had to _stand_ for something; I wanted to feel the subject's desperation in their pleas, in their financial offerings. The last thing I needed was to sign with a label only to be dropped once its brass heard the experimental goth-pop metal myself and my perfect matches had crafted during our time spent back home in Berlin. I sighed, feeling quite content, and listened to the nearing sound of the audience gathering before the looming stage. My bodyguards had moved ahead slightly to lead Minx and Rapture through the more exposed area, leaving Randy and I on our own. I scowled.

"Such amateurs!" I spat, striding ahead to catch up. "I gave them_ explicit _directions - "

Something dark suddenly darted through my peripheral vision, a human figure. I heard Randy scoff gently at my interrupted rant but ignored it; my stomach was tightening out of instinct as I turned around for a second look.

"Impossible," I said aloud, watching as the figure vanished between two darkened, distant rows of trailers behind us. "No, he's - he's locked away. He can't...no." I shook my head to clear it and looked again. No one was there. But from behind me -

"_Mein Gott!"_ Minx's cry chilled my very blood; I knew she'd seen him somehow too, just like I had. Slowly I turned to meet her eyes. She was terrified, close to tears. My catlike Minx did not react in such a fashion for no reason at all. Nothing shook her, and when it did...

"Call the police," I said to her, nodding at Rapture and the guards. "Take them all with you and whatever you do, stay together. Can you do that for me?"

"Wait, what?" Randy took me by the arm. "What happened? What's going on?"

I ignored him. Minx rushed forward and kissed my lips, grasping my hand briefly before running off to obey me. One of the bodyguards hesitated, staring after me. "Sir! Sir, I can't allow you to go off on your own!"

"You can and you will," I said to the man, taking Randy's arm and hurriedly following after where the shadow had appeared. The guard had no chance to object.

"Do not ask me how or why, but I've just seen Eric Raymond," I told Randy once we were out of the guard's earshot. "So did Minx. Just now in this corridor."

"Okay, I won't ask how or why, but I _will_ ask you if you're sure about that."

Out of nowhere a breathless, inwardly frantic Pizzazz Gabor shot out from between another row to our left; oh, now, I was seeing things. My hand to God. Because that fawning, malleable, weak little snob of a woman was now all alone, brandishing a heavy pistol, and headed towards where I'd seen Raymond's form. I called out her name. Her eyes pierced me with ice.

"Don't come near me, Riot. I'm not kidding." She turned and pointed the gun at my chest. "Or I'll blow you away. Both of you."

"Jesus Christ," Randy wheezed next to me. I swallowed my panic.

"Pizzazz. Phyllis. Please. Whatever you're doing, whatever it is, it doesn't have to end in a violent manner."

"Don't you _dare_ address me by that name."

The quiet rage in her voice turned me to stone. My innards quivered. She cocked the gun, a terrifying sound. "Don't you dare. You've fucked with me for far too long, Blondie, but my beef right now is not with you. And right now, you are wasting my time."

She was gone before her words had even died in our ears. Randy and I looked at each other.

"Yes. Yes, I'm quite sure now."

He nodded once and swallowed hard. "Let's go."

It didn't matter that we were devoid of any weaponry whatsoever. There wasn't time. Whatever was going on, it wasn't going to wait for us to prepare for or prevent it.

**

* * *

Raya**

If there was one thing in all the world I could not stand, it was pelvic exams. No matter how many I'd endured in my life and especially in the past nine months, I'd never gotten used to them, and I probably never would. After what felt like an endless parade of strange nurses and carelessly administered "progress checks", I was ready to kick someone in the teeth. Tears were still streaming down my face when the doctor finally arrived.

"Ms. Alonso! How are we coming along here, huh?" Once again a speculum invaded me, and once again I nearly cried out. Through my angry wheezing breaths, I could actually hear the man fail to suppress a gasp. "Fully dilated!" He turned to Aja, who was now hovering over me with a protective air that rivaled even Luis'. "How long has it been since she was admitted?"

Aja glowered at him. "Not long. Maybe an hour or two." She folded her arms over her chest pointedly. "Judging by the rate your nurses have insisted on examining Raya, you'd think she's been here for days."

He didn't seem to have heard her. In an instant the noise level in the room spiked from multiple human voices, all trading medical code back and forth in increasingly urgent tones. Another contraction made me convulse; chaos seemed to give birth all around me. Luis' hand gripping mine was an oasis in the sudden storm.

"Careful," the doctor was saying as I was being lifted from one bed to another. "We don't want either patient to suffer from excessive strain."

I would have happily told him exactly where he could receive that "excessive strain" had I not found myself being whisked down the long hall of sickly florescent lights. Fuzzy blackness threatened my sight; I fought to stay conscious even as my birth canal felt as if it were tearing apart by itself.

"Carmen!" The terror in my mother's voice forced me to open my eyes again. "Carmen, you have to wake up! You cannot sleep now!"

_Mama, the pain,_ I tried to tell her. _The pain is too much._

But she was right. I knew I would die if the blackness claimed me; I'd never lay eyes upon my child, never feel safe in my lover's arms, never play the drums or create with my best friends ever again. I would end up in the ground.

"No." I forced the word to form. "No. Wait."

Doors slammed open. Bleach-scented breeze rushed over my face as a maddening chorus of screeching medical devices invaded my ears. Again, I was being lifted from one bed to another, this one shaped in a sharp incline. "Wait!" I cried out, momentarily stalling the action. All eyes focused in on me. "No, wait. I need...I need Aja and Shana here too."

Aja and Shana's eyes went wide. "Oh, Raya, we - we couldn't!" Shana stammered, one hand fluttering for her chest.

"We'd only be taking up precious space!" added Aja, turning to exchange a look of shock with Shana. The doctor started to frown, poised to voice his objection, but I insisted. "Your unconditional support convinced me that I could do this," I said to them. "I need you there with me. Please."

"There's no time," my doctor barked, making frantic hand motions at the nearest nurse. "Get them into scrubs. Hurry."

And with that I was gazing up at ceiling again, blinking away the piercing glare of surgical lighting. My naked rear rested on its edge while two pairs of hands helped my feet into the cold stirrups, and consciousness was stolen from me by another tearing sensation in my gut.

**

* * *

Danse**

My limbs felt quite leaden as I dragged myself up and out of the warmth of the taxicab, onto the wet, grey sidewalk. Part of me felt Vivian's presence next to me and heard my father pay the driver before the car lurched back into the fitful Zagreb traffic flow. All my focus centered on the majestic high-rise looming over us. It made me dizzy to stare up at it so, but I couldn't seem to help it. She was somewhere in there, in hiding.

"This is the place," my father was saying to Viv. "Gisele? How are you doing? Are you all right?"

I nodded without looking back. "I need to do this."

"I know you do."

Silence. The air felt positively frigid. Delicate little snowflakes were fluttering in a constant drift down towards the dirty pavement, evaporating instantly on contact. I was so tired all of a sudden. This was a ridiculous thing to do; I should have left well enough alone and put Nadia and her cruelty behind me. That would have been the sane and logical decision. But I supposed I'd been anything but in the months since our reunion, and this obsession had to stop sometime. I had to put aside the ever-present urge to stay shy and subservient and stand up for what was right.

I sighed softly, the vapors from my breath clouding before my face. _Oh, mother. Mother, why did you have to react the way you did? We'd only just met after nearly a decade of absence. That was supposed to be a fresh start, a new beginning and a happy ending. Why did you have to go and ruin it? Why did you have to drive me to this?_

Viv's hand was rubbing the small of my back. "Danse?" She said. I blinked and turned to her.

"Yes, love?"

"Think you're ready to do this now?"

I turned back to the building and straightened my posture. "Yes."

"One moment," my father said, stepping in front of us. "Gisele, perhaps I should go up first and talk to Nadia alone. It would serve to soften the blow a bit, don't you think?"

My lips pursed as I pondered this. My father frowned a little and glanced at the sky. "Once I talk to her, Gisele, she may be more willing to let you up as well."

"No," I said finally. "No, thank you, Father, I think it's best if we all go together. I'm willing to lead the way."

So that's what we did, gently convincing the doorman that we were indeed Nadia Dvorjcak's family and staying silent during the elevator ride to the fortieth floor. My eyes were closed most of the time. I heard the quiet chime, felt the lift stop and the air rushing over my face when the doors swished open.

_Time to do the right thing, Danse._

My eyes opened and the song in my head began.

"_When I take the floor, as I've often done before..."_

One foot in front of the other, carefully, deliberately, one-beat-step, two-beat-step, I made my way down the luxuriously furnished hallway. I watched the way my feet tread upon the velveteen maroon carpeting, trimmed with gold calligraphy.

"_I feel a change come over me_

_I get such a thrill_

_It feels like time is standing still..."_

Controlling my breaths, counting them, I made note of each apartment number as I passed. Nadia's home appeared to reside at the end of the hallway, where a generous picture window allowed bright grey morning light to pour inside. Hm, walking towards the light...what a metaphor.

"_And starlight is the only thing I see."_

I paused at the last door on the left and crisply turned to face it. I pulled the wisp of paper out of my jacket and peered at my nervous handwriting. 233, Stefan had said. That was what the marquee beside the door said, too. This was it.

"_When it's only me and the music, _

_I leave the world behind."_

"Only me and the music," I whispered, and knocked on the door. Rap, rap, rap. A torturous silence followed. I knocked again. The intercom buzzed.

"Who is there?" Nadia's drowsy voice demanded. My stomach seized up.

"_When it's only me and the music..."_

"Mother, it's Gisele."

More silence.

"Mother, I've come a long way to see you. We need to talk, please. It can't wait."

My patience thinned with each second that passed without incident. A curse of my own danced on the tip of my tongue; I refused to voice it. I would not be like her. Behind the door, I could hear light footsteps trotting closer and closer. Soon the door would open and I would be faced with her hatred again. I knew it. But this time I was ready.

"_I am free."_

The door did open, and Nadia, appearing vaguely disheveled, did gaze at me with that same disdain. "Gisele," she said, lifting her chin.

"_I am poetry in motion."_

"Nadia, we need to talk," I said again, and pushed my way past her with as much grace as I could muster. Her resulting gasp, I knew, was not because of my actions but because of my father's appearance in the doorway.

"Nadia," he said.

"Peter!" There was a hushed, transient pause. "Oh dear God...you're - you're _alive_?"

She sounded startled. Good. Maybe if her guard was torn down, she would be more likely to listen to reason. Or at least to what I needed to say. I darted back to the door and motioned for Vivian to follow us inside. She nodded, but walked in as slowly as humanly possible. Nadia retreated to her kitchen and spun on me.

"All right. To what do I owe these unexpected...pleasures?" She spat that last word out, like it was poisonous. Like I was poisonous. My own chin lifted and I inhaled deeply.

"You deserted me. You insulted me, you tried to shatter my dignity, and I'm not going to stand for it. I'm a human being, Nadia, whether I choose to love a woman or a man, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not."

"_When it's only me...and the - "_

**

* * *

Eric**

Music - throbbing and revoltingly trendy - pounded its way through the stifling night air as I tugged Jerrica through this alleyway, away from the glare of omnipresent police cruisers.

"Shush," I said to her, pressing the blade to her throat for emphasis. We weren't far from the epicenter of the party, and that was something I badly needed to rectify. If she cried out now, it wasn't implausible for someone to hear her voice and take action. I could not afford an outsider taking action. I had no firearm, I could not eliminate them before they eliminated me. I needed to keep moving.

But I'd literally hit a wall. My back was against it, and I was surrounded by structures. I felt so weary, so dizzy, and wondered why. My vision blurred as I looked up at the sky. Dark figures appeared at the other end of the alley, advancing on us.

"No," I whispered, panting. "No time, Jerrica darling. We need to find a way out."

One of the dark figures burst forth into the alley, becoming more illuminated the closer it drew to us; I watched Jerrica's eyes light up at the sight, trapped her scream behind my sweating palm. Still she struggled violently in my grasp.

"Eric! Eric, please listen, you don't want to do this!" Backlit, the figure appeared to be female, her head aglow with a blond halo. "Do you hear me? Do you understand? I'm the one you want; let her go!"

She with the blond halo advanced closer, ever so slowly. The streetlight above us peeled the shadows from its form, layer by layer until...no...no, it's heresy! Heresy! It couldn't be!

Stunned. I was a stunned animal frozen in hell's light. One glance down at the Jerrica in my arms and a glance over to the Jerrica confronting me made the world spin. I didn't like it. Not at all. At _all_! Yet another trick of light, yet another attack of demonic holographics! That damnable computer, that fucking Benton, he'd ruined everything for me and it'd all boiled away to this moment in time, this final fucking failure and I was done. I was done. And I wasn't going to swallow it all down with a smile any longer. Rage once again enslaved me.

"No," I announced. "No! No, you can't fool me with your holograms, Jerrica darling, I know all about all the games that you play, and I tell you here and now that I am _never_ being played _again!!_" The knife returned to my captive's throat.

_"Eric!!"_

Lightning sizzled in my veins at that sweet piercing screech. The green-tressed love of my life emerged from the shadows, boldly aiming a .45 directly at my skull and I smiled, a genuine smile, perhaps for the first time ever in my wrecked existence.

"Eric, give it up. Drop your knife. It's all over; let the girl go," she called out, and oh, her voice was so much more musical than I'd remembered.

"Phyllis!" Her name burst from me, so consumed was I with elation. She came for me! "Phyllis, look! Look who I've got for you!"

"NO! No, Raymond, _put it down NOW!_"

"Watch, my love, watch me!"

"_Eric don't make me do this - !"_

Someone was screaming again, but this time I felt confident that I was not its source. My blade etched a line in young Jerrica's pretty neck, coaxing blood from the captivity of flesh and I sickened myself, the way I found myself enjoying her skin -

**

* * *

Raya**

Tearing. Such tearing, I cannot tell where I begin or end, but it hurts, Mama, it hurts.

Don't cry. Don't cry like that, Mama, I know I'm cursing, but I can't help it. This is all I can do.

Is that Shana? Shana, hold my hand, you too, Aja. I need all the help I can...

...what happened?

What was that? I saw red, and then nothing. I can't speak. Try as I might to form words, they're not coming out. Is the baby out yet? Can I stop yet? _Mi Dios, Mama_, I can't, I just can't! The pain is too much...

"The head is crowning," my obstetrician's disembodied voice is informing me from between my spread legs. "You're doing fine, Carmen, just keep pushing."

Invisible flames engulf my womb and quickly eat away at the entire lower half of my body; I scream. What is he, stupid? If I keep pushing like this, all my insides will come out with the baby! Lord knows I've lost enough blood, I can feel it. As if my baby is taking my very life force with it as it tries to leave me behind. I'm sure it doesn't mean to; it doesn't have much choice. At this point, it's either my child or myself, and both of us know it. Stay strong, little one, I won't let you down.

Is that Luis massaging my shoulder? Good. Maybe I did scream aloud. That's a good sign. I bear down on my weary pelvic muscles for my baby's sake and am vaguely aware of someone's hand gripping mine. Callused, well-played fingertips and a grip like a vice - must be Aja's. Thank you, my dear friend, oh, and you too, Shana, I'm sure that's your voice telling me I'm going to be all right. It sounds like you're crying, too. Poor, sensitive Shana, why are you still watching me die? How can you stand it?

"...stuck...forceps..."

"...going to help Dr. Lewis, Raya, Shana's taking your hand now, okay?"

The strong callused hand leaves me and is replaced by the bassist's tender palm, which is fairly damp with sweat. She must be so frightened. Cool wetness dabs at my forehead and eyelids; frigid little odd-shaped spheres are being slipped into my mouth. I suck at them and open my eyes at Shana gratefully. Yes, she's crying, but trying so hard to be strong for me.

"It's going to be all right, Raya," she tells me again over the frantic voices of the medical staff.

"...forceps, now!..."

Shana cries harder. I hear my mother muffle a wail. Then nothing - the lights are dim -

Dark.

Fuzzy gray light...nothing. Nothingness. Silence.

Something's inside me! Pulling! Machinery screeches. The sound rips through me; I'm alive. I drag air into my lungs to prove it.

"Carmen." The doctor says. "Carmen, listen to me, okay? You're almost there. We've managed to coax her body out; now we need your help. One more big push, honey, just one more. Ready? On three, Carmen, count with me."

But the fire inside me is spreading and eating me whole and it HURTS and -

"One," I growl through the pain, teeth grinding. Aja's voice is joining mine.

"Two..."

The fire spreads, consuming me as it tries valiantly to flood out my womb. The flood becomes screaming, my screaming. Soon it will be dark again.

Luis' voice is in my ear, low and intimate. "You can do this, I know you can, love. Just follow the doctor's directions."

"I can't - "

"You _can_ and you will. You can do anything, my Carmen, my darling Raya."

"Three!" The voice between my legs barks out. "Push, Carmen, push now!"

What can I do? I have to comply, I can do nothing else, and I bear down harder, harder still until the fire inside me spreads so quickly it singes my vision, my breath, as an enormous chasm gives way inside me...

Even the silence hurt...

**

* * *

Danse**

...As I stared my poor mother down. She seemed to crumble at my declaration, leaning on the counter for support while she gazed at me, looking heartbroken. Still she said nothing.

"The things you called me were incredibly hurtful, unbelievably ignorant, but I should have known. Considering." I paused.

"I understand, about your amnesia. I realize that we had no control over our circumstances in the past and I know, I know how hard it must have been to come to grips with that and gather enough courage to seek me out. That being said, I don't understand why you would go through all of that only to reject me, to disown me in public like some hysterical soap actress once you learned that I was in a relationship with a woman. A _lesbian_ relationship, Nadia. Or in your words, an abomination. I don't know how you've lived with yourself ever since. Amnesia can't explain that. Can you?"

My mother said nothing. She straightened and went to her refrigerator, retrieving a gallon of fruit juice and a bottle of vodka. Vodka at eight in the morning? Even under these extreme circumstances, it came across as odd. Vivian exchanged glances with my father.

"We're not here to judge, Nadia," Father told her. "We're here to mend bridges."

"Stop speaking in cliches, Peter. They never worked in your favor." She took a gulp of the mixture she'd stirred and grunted. "And _yes_, Gisele, I'm well aware of the fact that I am a cliche as well. So please, don't bother bringing it up."

"Why would I bother? You know full well what you've done."

Nadia recoiled. "Yes. I do know what I've done. I've flung my dreams of dancing to the wind to finance your ballet training at age nine. I've searched for years to find you, eagerly awaiting the day I would reconcile with you and watch my brilliant daughter carry on the Dvorjcak legacy with daughters of her own. You think that will happen now?"

"And why not? There's more than one way to carry on a legacy, Mother," I spat. "Adoption. Insemination. In my case, mentoring. I have a host of foster children in my care that I train myself; they are so talented, Nadia. It's a shame you wrote me off before you had the chance to see how much I've really accomplished."

"Yes." A disdainful glance at Vivian; my blood boiled. "That you certainly have."

"Oh, you just have no idea, do you? How much damage you've inflicted? You don't even care!" I jumped to my feet. "As long as I'm an 'abomination', my accomplishments mean nothing to you! _Nothing!_"

Behind me, my father and Viv both rose to their feet as I strode up to Nadia, meeting her face to face. "All my life, every second of it, has revolved around you. Around making you proud of me, being the perfect little ballerina so I could literally follow in your footsteps. Around losing you so suddenly and fighting my way to the bottom of your mystery. And for what? Nothing, absolutely nothing!"

Behind me, my father and girlfriend haltingly sank back down on the sofa; my dear mother showed no sign whatsoever that my words affected her other than to take a long swallow from her vodka tonic. "I'm not like you, Nadia. And I never will be. I'm sick of the tension, of longing for a perfection I cannot attain. And don't even tell me you don't understand, because I know some deep down part of you does. I'm sick of how you act like I owe you something, and I suggest from here on out you find another place to feed your greed."

And oh, how her blue eyes bulged from sunken sockets then, like I'd slapped her. I wished to God I could have, just stung her across that perfect face and hurled her liquid placebo to the tiled floor. My rage felt so hot I could almost taste the broken glass.

"You don't know how much Vivian means to me, or how much she's helped me heal. You don't know how much I've suffered from your careless actions," I seethed, deliberately meeting her eye to eye. Her skin was so gray, like the sky outside.

"_Kaj??"_ she choked out, searing me with a stare of self-righteous disbelief. Oh, so it was a new round of that old game - using the native language to guilt a wayward daughter into submission. I wasn't buying it.

_"Te ne znati išta o mene više!" - _You don't know anything about me anymore. The words fell a bit too heavily off of my out-of-practice tongue, but the look on that woman's face made it worth the effort. My poor nervous father took the initiative then to step in between the two of us.

"Perhaps, Gisele, you would let me speak with Nadia for a brief moment? Alone?'

His eyes pleaded with me so that I couldn't refuse. Vivian was standing again, silently willing me back to her side, and so I obliged. I had no further business here. "You know what, Nadia? That's all right. I actually should thank you for the things you've done."

Nadia paled. "And why is that?"

I grinned at her, brilliantly. "I'm that much stronger because of it." And with that smug declaration of independence, I laced my gloved fingers through Vivian's and turned my back on her, just like she'd done to me in the Rock Hard Café so many months ago, with that hateful epithet firing off her acid tongue. Vivian kissed my hand, and I in turn leaned to kiss her. I felt so free. We sat together on a plush bench at the opposite end of the hallway, saying nothing, only letting the feeling of vindication sink in.

"Gisele!"

That is, until that plaintive voice pierced the air from down the hallway. I glared back at my mother; I should have known I wouldn't be allowed to leave without the great Nadia Dvorjcak having the last word.

"What is it, mother?" I called out, rising to my feet. "I'm waiting."

She paused. "Gisele, forgive me if you feel I've wronged you. I do not want to lose you again. Please. Please, Peter has made me see the error of my ways. All I ask is for a chance to explain."

I exhaled slowly, refusing to respond. Viv's whisper was in my ear.

"It's your choice, bunny. Either way, you know I'm behind you a hundred percent."

She was right, but I grimaced all the same. Life had a funny way of trying to burn me...

**

* * *

Jerrica**

...Twice, I see his knife wrench at her neck; my first instinct is frozen panic, then comes a silent horror that launches me forward; I can't get to Eric's knife fast enough and it's slicing, God, _slicing_ her God no God NO -

Blood is spilling down from a slit in my baby's neck, cascading, her eyes are bulging and her screaming is strained from the pressure of the blade and no, I can't have anyone else die, no one else, NO ONE ELSE GOD _you're not listening you NEVER LISTEN Mom Daddy please noSynergyhelpme_!

My weight collides with Eric and Deirdre's struggling bodies. The impact registers with my flesh a split second before a shattering blast rips through my eardrums and the stench of gunpowder overwhelms me; all three of our bodies crumble to the concrete. I'm on top of Deirdre, cradling her, screaming, but I can't hear myself over the second and third blasts. God, the blood, so much blood. People are screaming my name a few feet away; I can't hear them over my own grieving. The corner of my eye catches the blur of a tall blonde figure hustling past the scene.

"Deirdre!" I sob, inspecting her head ever so gingerly. She feels like a corpse already. "Deirdre, honey, oh..."

And then, I stop. There is no slit on Deirdre's neck. A deep cut that will need attention, yes, but nothing that should be producing so much blood. And then I remember Eric. And I look over to gaze down at the gaping wounds permeating the man's chest. I peer closely at both bodies, reach out my hand and let myself touch the oozing red liquid on my daughter's neck. Her eyes open to look at me.

"Jerrica! Jerrica, my God, are you all right?"

It takes a while for the molten-honey voice to penetrate the hysterical fog in my brain. Once it does, I cannot help but turn away from Deirdre's milky eyes to meet Riot's.

"Did you...do...this?" I ask him, very slowly as the words are coming out all clumsy. Am I sinking into the ground? I feel as if I am. A moment passes. Riot turns his eyes to the dying man next to me and swallows his rising gorge. "Jerrica, I have done many a reprehensible thing in my lifetime, but I assure you..." He gestures with a trembling hand at Eric. "This is not my doing."

"Jerrica?" Deirdre's voice is raspy, but strong. I pull her up off of Eric and enfold her in my arms, crying with relief. I can hear the blood rushing in my ears, swelling in my veins - all the panic is trying to escape in physical forms, and four feet away, someone else is crying too. Screaming, actually...like the voice is erupting from the source's body. The unmistakable sound of true grief.

My eyes open and take in the sight of Pizzazz frozen in place, shrieking as the gun in her hands trembles from the recoil. For a moment I'm certain one of her bullets has me in mind. Then her body crumples to the gravel, taking the gun with her as she falls, silently wailing and gasping for air. Behind her form I see Riot and Randy James gingerly creeping up on her and I feel my self detach from my own body. It's as if I've decided without my own permission not to witness what I see happening...

**

* * *

Pizzazz**

...There. It's done. I did it.

My fingers finally released themselves from around the trigger and allowed the gun to slip from my hand. I stared at Eric's sprawling form, saying to myself, "to hell with it", as tears shamelessly dribbled down my face. I didn't care. I just shot a man. I just shot _my_ man. Hands were grabbing me, hoisting me up by the elbows. Masculine hands. Masculine voices. Pulling at me, pissing me off. I turned around; Riot. Again! The bastard!

"Get _off_ of me!" I screamed, leaping backwards out of his grasp and kicking him away. "Fucker! Leave me alone!" And there on the pavement was poor stupid Eric, splayed flat out on his back like an eviscerated dog. He was struggling to live, and so obviously failing. Christ, what did I do? _What have I done?!_

"Raymond! God, Raymond, I'm sorry, I had to, oh Christ!" I scrambled across the pavement on hands and knees and reached for his head. He wasn't moving. "Oh, fuck no, Eric, come on you stupid asshole, speak to me!" I slapped him, hard. Eric's eyelids fluttered, and his eyes opened, fighting to stay conscious while fixing an oddly peaceful-looking gaze at me. He managed a smile.

"Phyllis..." Eric gasped, blindly clutching around for something; I offered him both my hands. "Phyllis, honey, I'm sorry, I've failed you. You were right; it's over. There's just..." he coughed then, and to my horror, brought up blood. "...just one more thing."

"Yeah, Eric?"

"I just wanted...wanted you to be happy. I just wanted to be with you, and I'm a rotten asshole for not.." One raspy rattle of a breath. "Saying anything...loved you...whole time..."

Eric's peaceful gaze went unfocused then, his chest rising in an excruciatingly deep breath that he did not exhale. Underneath our clasped hands, I swore I felt his heartbeat stop - I panicked.

"Eric. _Eric!_" Nothing. "Oh, no, no, no, God, no, come on, Eric, no!"

I shook him, like that was going to do any good against a huge gaping chest wound. All the life in him had drained away; he was now nothing but a gory cadaver, and it was all my fault.

But in my mind's eye, a stubborn memory of Stormer was shaking her head at me, and the fire in her phantom eyes forced me to pay attention. _"Pizzazz, you just said it yourself,_" she'd said_. "He deserved it. Why did he deserve it? Because he was overly controlling, manipulative, cruel. He was unstable, and nothing we did created that. He had a choice. Eric chose this for himself, probably without even knowing it. That's _not _your fault!"_

My guts were burning up through my body as I threw myself over his silent chest. "You idiot!" I bawled, and suddenly realized I'd been sobbing my brains out all this time. "You left me no goddamn choice, no choice at all! You selfish, crazy bastard, you brought this on yourself, you fucking brought this on _yourself_!"

The silence in my head from the grief was deafening, drowning out the cries of the girl, the shrieks of the sirens, the sound of my sobs giving way from my throat. Nothing existed in that moment but the hot throbbing of a lifetime's repressed tears. Then the real silence took over for me, and I was grateful.

After a few minutes, or a few hours, someone spoke to me. "Pizzazz?"

My eyes opened and I looked at Jerrica Benton, who was sprawled out herself beside our teenaged charge, staring at me with tears spilling over the brims of those big dumb eyes. I sucked in a very wet breath.

"What?" I snapped, or at least I prayed I had. She fought back a sob and shook her head.

"'Thank you' doesn't even begin to scratch the surface right now."

Of course my first instinct was to sneer at her gushing display of possibly fake sympathy, but it was pretty obvious even now that the former Ol' Pink Hair had seen this side of life before, unlike me. "Yeah, it does," I said, wiping tears from my face with a bloodied palm. Once I saw that, both of us started crying all over again. "Pizzazz, I'm so sorry," she said, and I had the strangest urge then to reach for her hand.

But by that point Roxy, Stormer, Clash and Jetta were all around me, exclaiming their horror in mingling high-pitched cries while looking back and forth at the cadaver, then me. Cadaver. Me. Two police officers were stalking their way over, and I let myself fade out for a bit. I knew I was being lifted off of his body then and carried gently towards a vehicle, probably a squad car - I did just blow someone away, after all - and all of my partners in crime were whispering soothing words to me, stroking my hair. I think that mother of mine used to do that for me once upon a time, not that it mattered much at the moment.

"Oh, _hell_, no, you're not taking her all by herself!" That was Roxy's voice scolding one of the officers. "I don't care if I have to get myself arrested too, I'm goin' with her!"

"Same here!" That sounded like Clash.

"Me too!" That was definitely good old Stormer. Jetta barked out something about one of the men being a blighter, followed by a few mumbling bass tones. There was a scuffle, but no squawking - I guessed the girls were being allowed to come after all, oh thank Christ - and my dirtied hands were being cuffed behind my back while the mumbling bass man read me my rights. Stormer's hands gripped me under my armpits, Clash's gripped my ankles, and together they hoisted me into the back of the car on top of Roxy's and Jetta's waiting laps,

Then someone giggled. Someone actually fucking giggled. Another girl's giggle joined the first, followed by another. I continued to stare at the ceiling, noting how the cuffs were warming to my body temperature.

"See, Pizzazz, this ain't so bad, right?" Clash snickered. "Kinda makes me nostalgic for my days in juvie."

"Never did end up in juvie myself," Jetta added, "'cept I _was_ once caught by the Yard in the back of me mum's Ford underneath some wretched sod. She was none too pleased."

"About the sod?" cracked Stormer, hiding her silent laughter behind a fist.

"No. About the car upholstery. I forgot to put a blanket down first."

Then everyone was laughing, hard, hysterically. Everyone but me. Mumbling Bass Man became Loud Vibrato Man, shouting at the girls to shut up or else; my eyes shifted from the ceiling to meet his in the rear view mirror. I guess I looked pretty goddamned crazy, crazy enough to shut a cop's flapping mouth, at least. That was all right, though, I'd done what I had to do. I saved a life or two in the process of taking one. His. Oh well. Deirdre was cool, so was Queen Benton, and I guess that made it okay. Sorta. My skull ached; I shifted my eyes back to the ceiling and kept them there until I felt the cruiser slow to a final stop.

"We're here, Pizzazz," Stormer was saying. "Time to get out."

I didn't feel myself moving, and I couldn't make my limbs obey, either. Again I was hoisted up and then removed from the vehicle, being escorted through big, heavy doors and tobacco-scented, florescent hallways.

"Don't sweat it," Roxy was saying. "We'll getcha out of here in no time." Then Stormer was whispering to her. So were Clash and Jetta. Everything around me was deafening and yet so silent. I wanted to sleep.

"It's going to be all right," Stormer's fading voice told me as my body and brain succumbed to the numbness. "Everything's going to be just fine."

**

* * *

Raya**

The chasm inside me still ached a great deal, but it no longer ate me alive. It was the end result of suffering, a mere space left behind by the new life I'd finally driven out into the world. My eyes opened, sore from being forced so tightly shut for so long; a heavy silence was being shattered by tiny, lusty shrieks and the sounds of air being gasped into brand new lungs. I stared at the wet, blood-streaked infant; it was a girl, I could plainly see that. A baby girl. My daughter, I repeated to myself. I had a daughter.

Dr. Lewis was severing the cord, his nurses attending to my afterbirth, but I was hardly aware of any of it as Luis lowered her little body into my waiting arms...

_"It was so sweet of you to bring the pinata, Raya!" Kimber exclaimed, and I smiled at her wistfully._

_"I always wanted a sister; I have three brothers..."_

"Raya?"

I looked up with a start; my baby squirmed in my embrace as everyone I loved gazed at us, like we were cute little animals exhibited in a zoo. I smiled at them all and then down at my new daughter. She looked just about as exhausted as I was.

"What will you name her?" Someone who sounded like Aja asked me. Luis' hand tilted my head back very gently, so that our eyes met. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn on my mother's Virgin statuette that his warm brown orbs were tearing up. I think mine were, too.

"I've always loved the name 'Selena'," I said, brushing a hand over her face. "Yes. That feels right: Selena Maria Alonso."

Next to me, my mother absolutely beamed at the surprise tribute and leapt up from her chair to fervently kiss my forehead. A prayer was whispered against my skin; I raised my arm to squeeze her in answer. The only sounds in the room came from the mingling voices of the doctor and his nurses and from the steadily beeping heart monitor.

"Alonso-Renaldo," Luis was saying as my mother at last reclaimed her seat. I murmured at him, not really hearing him, completely focused on the newest love of my life. She flexed her tiny fingers and blinked up at me, and after a few moments it dawned on me what my companion had actually said. When I went to look at him again, Luis was not there; rather, he was already on bended knee, presenting to me a tiny jewelry box. His finger lifted its lid, revealing the dazzling diamond ring inside. Aja and Shana were clutching each other breathlessly.

"Carmen Consuela Alonso, would you please do me the honor of being my wife?"

It was not so much a question as a desperate plea. Selena hiccupped; I erupted in tired giggles and rolled my eyes at him.

"My love," I said dryly, "you have the most _impeccable_ timing."

**

* * *

Riot**

"I was too late," I confessed to the terrified young engineer running up to me. "I did all I could do to stop it from happening. But I was too late."

He stopped short to gape at the bloody scene, at Phyllis Gabor being led into a police cruiser, at the bullet-riddled corpse of Eric Raymond being covered and lifted away by medical authorities, lastly at his beautiful angel of a wife and her foster daughter being attended to by a mobile medical team. Then once again he turned to me. "Dear Christ, Riot, how? How the fuck did he get out? How the fuck did you _see_ him? How - "

"I've no idea," I interrupted him, smearing a hand over my fatigued facial muscles. "All that's certain is that I could not stop it. Ask Randy. He'll tell you everything you want to know."

"I'd rather find out from you."

I groaned, squinting up at the streetlight. "Ms. Gabor had a gun," I said, as if speaking to a small child, "Mr. Raymond possessed a knife. Your wife and her daughter possessed neither. Both Randy and I have years of combat training under our proverbial belts, and we attempted to use it here for the greater good. Now, if you're thinking that I had anything to do with this, then I'll tell you you're a vile, paranoid waste of skin, but one could hardly blame you. Had I been you, I wouldn't be eager to put trust in me, either."

Both of us watched as the stretcher holding Eric Raymond's corpse was thrust into a waiting ambulance. The doors were slammed behind it. Voices barked orders back and forth; the ambulance slowly rolled out into the strangely empty street, its lights flashing, its siren kept silent.

"Go," I said to him. "Go attend to your wife. It's clear she needs you desperately. Go."

He hesitated. "Riot - "

My temper flared. "I tried to _help_ her, you imbecile! Don't you understand, he was going to kill her and once I knew, I did everything in my power to save her life! There was no time nor space in my mind for ulterior motives, anyone could see that! And still you stand here babbling at me like the fool you are. Go on, hurry now, before I change my mind and decide to take advantage of this _golden_ opportunity."

He scowled at my mocking tone. _Serves him right_, I thought, my eyes following his form as he hustled to Jerrica's side. _He still does not deserve her. _But how her face lit up at the sight of him, all her bruises and traumas momentarily tossed aside as she flung herself into his waiting arms. Even from here I could hear her grateful sobbing, muffled by the shoulder of her souvenir of healing. My back slid down a greasy wall of brick until I touched the ground, holding my head in my hands. So much death. One could train all they wanted and yet never truly be prepared once the losses came to be. The smell of the gravel, of the stale gun powder and the blood, sickened me. Acid roiled in my stomach. So much death.

"Hey."

Randy was nudging my shoulder. With a great effort I lifted my head and stared at him.

"What is it, friend?"

"Rory, you look like hell. Are you going to be all right?"

"Fine." I managed to compose myself and allowed him to help me stand up. "Thank you."

"Good to hear," he said as we walked. "Because um, we're on in twenty minutes. So say LinZ's people."

"We're still _performing_?!" I stopped and stared at him. "Christ God, are they all insane? Have they no _idea_ what's just occurred here?"

"They know exactly what's happened - and they need us for _crowd_ control, Ror," Randy emphasized, gesturing behind him. "It's up to us to provide the distraction; no one's been given any details yet, especially not the general public."

Oh, I was so tired; all my limbs at once wanted to fall to the ground. Yet I stayed silent, contemplating, realizing almost immediately that he was right. The new music, though...it almost seemed obscene to play it now, alongside all the drama and the tragedy.

"Come on, man. I know it's hard, but Minx and Rapture are backstage waiting," he added quietly. I nodded; we walked onwards, flanked by extra security officers on the way. It gave me the effect of being enveloped in a life-sized, manmade womb; the men murmured all around us into their mobile devices, exchanging codes, devising answers ahead of time. I sighed. I would feel better once I knew my lovely ones were unharmed.

And I did...oh, how my stomach relaxed once I lay eyes upon two blonde, pouting creatures, their heads hung low, their body language anxious as they sat perched at a guarded table, nursing tall glasses of iced water. One head immediately perked up at the sound of our entourage approaching. The other stayed down, but sharp blue eyes flicked towards me, sparkling with relief.

"Rory! Randy! You're alive!"

"Oh, you're safe, thank the Goddess!"

"Of course we are, darlings," I soothed as both of my loves tearfully threw their arms around Randy and myself. "Of course we are. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore. Nothing to worry about, nothing..." I paused, willing the haunting images away. "Nothing left to fear."

Minx whimpered into my shoulder. "Is he - "

"Yes," I said, and both she and Rapture shuddered against me. "Yes, Ingrid, he is." I sighed, debating, then, "the police were left with little choice. But it's over now."

Rapture sighed as well. "They still want us to go on, Riot."

"I know, my darling, I know. It's all right." I kissed both of them on the cheek and parted from their embrace. "And I am prepared to do so if you are."

Being bathed in the heat of glaring stage lights and the adoring roar of our hometown crowd comforted me; I took my place behind the curtain while Randy took his behind his kit. Minx and Rapture waited while LinZ's introduction rang out over the loudspeakers. And at that moment, the answer came to me. I inhaled deeply and turned around.

"'Let Me Be'", I mouthed to them all silently. All looked surprised, but all nodded in acknowledgment. The curtain was yanked away to reveal us as LinZ announced our names. The clamoring of the audience felt deafening. I tried to smile as I stepped up to the microphone.

**

* * *

Danse**

"I think you did the right thing."

"I hope so, babe."

"Nah, I know it, bunny, I can feel it."

"All's right with the world, huh?"

"Not exactly. But it's a very strong start, wouldn't you say?"

I watched the colored lines of airport codes scrolling across various electronic screens around the terminal, glanced at my father slumped over and dozing in his seat, and sighed absently. "It's a start," I echoed, playing with the frayed edge of my wool coat. "Not the start I would have wished for, but that's life."

Viv patted my shoulder. "If it means anything, I don't think she ever meant to hurt you."

"Thank you so much for your invaluable advice, doctor."

"Gisele."

"You don't know her like I do."

"But you don't know anything about her anymore."

"Viv! That's not fair!"

"I'm sorry, but it's true."

"Why are we arguing again?"

"We're running on no sleep and hours of jetlag."

"Is that all?"

"That, and the uphill-battle-against-society thing. Love's not easy."

I tried not to snicker, and miserably failed. "You're too corny. You make our love life sound like a political protest at large. And what's with the stupid Hologram-song puns?"

"Jetlag. I blame it all on jetlag."

"You would."

"I would and I am. Gisele, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I'm so proud of you for how well you handled yourself and how you stood up to Nadia, and I'm even more proud of you for finding it in that big sweet heart of yours to forgive her. The worst is over now."

"Yeah," I replied, feeling my muscles relax a bit more.

"You know I love you and I'd do anything for you. You know this, right?"

She made me want to cry sometimes. "Oh, baby." I smiled up at her through teary eyes. "Of course I know it. You proved it tonight. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her lips touched mine softly, sweetly, tasting me; my lips opened just so to receive her. For a moment in time our tongues danced, dueled, played together and then retreated. I felt flushed, and certainly not from embarrassment. This, this was freedom. Vivian Montgomery was freedom, and I loved knowing I belonged to her alone. I just loved her, period. Now nothing else possibly mattered. Not even the past.

"There, we've made up," she said softly, grinning. "Now relax and watch the jumbotron. It's gonna be a while before our flight is ready."

"Hm. American VTV is actually being broadcast here," I said, turning myself so that I could see better. "And over there they're still celebrating."

"_Happy New Year's Rockin' Eve, gals and pals! It's your main gal LinZ here live at Venice Beach and we've got less than five minutes until the big '90! And just listen to that screaming crowd; it's the moment we've all been waiting for, the most anticipated performance of the night and the last performance ever of 1989, ladies and gentlemen, gals and pals, making their first public appearance since the VTV Awards, I give you - _The Stingers!"

"Huh," Viv said. "Look how subdued they are. Shouldn't there be this big burst of sound and a bunch of fireballs or something?"

"Weird," I said, keeping my eyes glued to the screen. A sunken-eyed, exhausted looking Riot slung a jet black Fender Strat over his shoulder as he stepped up to a lone standing microphone. In the background, Rapture accepted her own guitar from an unseen roadie while Minx took her place behind a trademark structure of keyboards. Still the crowd roared for their heroes. Riot acknowledged the adulation with a curt nod.

"_Thank you. Thank you all for your support. We've missed you, Los Angeles; it's good to be back home."_ More wild applause; a slight smile crossed Riot's chiseled features. _"Yes, thank you. I'd like to speak now, please, if I may."_

"What is he doing?"

"I don't...know."

"_Some of you may know of my promise to debut material from our new album tonight. That was my intention, until I experienced things I cannot speak of, things that changed me completely. You can never be truly prepared for what the fates may present you with...you can only take a hold of the present and let your loved ones know how much they are cherished."_

Again Viv patted my shoulder. I patted her thigh in response.

"_In that spirit, I'd like to perform for you an old favorite tonight, to collectively cleanse our psychic palettes and welcome the new year - the new decade - with open arms and open minds."_

"I have to admit, I love this song," I said to Viv as the melodic piano intro of "Let Me Be" rose above the L.A. crowd's screams of recognition.

"You know what? I actually do, too."

"_Let me be, let me be the man I'm meant to be_

_Let me be, though I may not suit you perfectly_

_Set me free...to follow my own star_

_Let me be, can't you see?_

_We are who are..."_

**

* * *

Stormer**

"_What_ did you say?" Harvey Gabor's voice rose about three octaves too high; I winced and just kept plowing ahead, not allowing him another word in edgewise.

"Mr. Gabor, she had no choice. She'd been visiting him at the hospital, I guess, and she just knew he was plotting something - "

"And so she _stole_ my own pistol and ended his _life?!_"

"She had no choice!" I repeated, my hands flailing. "Mr. Gabor, she knew he'd kidnaped Deirdre, she _knew_ firsthand how violent Eric was and...there wasn't any time." I sighed into the phone. "She saved her life, and Jerrica Benton's, by doing what she did."

Silence. Then, "where are you now, Mary?"

"The LAPD's headquarters," I said. "They've taken us in."

He breathed a curse. "Justifiable homicide," he whispered. "All right. All right, you girls stay put, take care of Phyllis, keep her calm. I'm going to contact my law team and send my two best men to you now; I'm already in the car. I'll be there in five minutes. Whatever you do, don't say a _word_ to anyone, especially any of the media. It will all be taken care of."

I could have collapsed with relief. Leave it to the rich daddy to up and save the day. "Thank you so much, Mr. Gabor."

"Harvey. Call me Harvey."

I paused. "Thank you, Harvey."

The line went dead; I put the phone back onto its hook and returned to the smoky lounge that reeked of desperation, where all four of my best friends sat around a blaring television. Clash was lighting a cigarette upon her own, passing it to Roxy and then two more to Jetta and a very shell shocked Pizzazz.

"Blondie's on TV," she said to me as I sat down beside her. She exhaled and glanced at me, extending her lit cigarette. "Wanna smoke?"

Against my better judgement, I accepted the offer and took a long, lingering drag. Pizzazz snickered numbly at me as I passed it back. "You didn't even inhale."

"So?"

"Nothin'."

"We all quit years ago, remember?"

"'Course I do. I just don't care anymore, is all."

"That's okay. Neither do I."

For a moment the conversation died as all of us focused on the chiseled face taking up most of the television screen, the face's owner singing like his life depended on every note.

"_There's room to grow_

_And love to show, _

_We'll make it you and me_

_All I ask of you is..._

_Let me be..."_

"Poser," Roxy snorted, sucking the last trace of toxins out of her cig before stubbing it out in a nearby ashtray. "Listen to that guitar solo he's ripping out. _So_ Whitesnake it's ridiculous."

"Mmm, wankers, the lot of them," Jetta agreed. "But I'll admit the song's got quite a catchy bombast to it. That James bloke on the drums's makin' all the difference."

I glanced over at Pizzazz.

"Your father's on his way," I said. "He says not to do anything until he and his lawyers get here."

"Cool," she said detatchedly. Poor thing couldn't be bothered to care that her father was actually making the effort - not like he'd much of a choice this time, but still. God, this was all so fucking surreal...the things we'd all seen and done in the course of one night.

"Riot had a point," I said, not quite aware I was speaking aloud. "Y'never know what life's going to beat you with next...might as well appreciate who you've got while you've still got 'em."

All the Misfits were looking at me kind of funny, or at least that's what I'd thought until I turned around and saw Mr. Gabor in the lounge's doorway. Huh. He wasn't kidding.

"Daddy?" Pizzazz was slowly mobilizing, forcing herself up out of her chair as if she were staring at an apparition. "Holy hell, Daddy, you came, you really came!"

Her father gave a gentle smile and a nod. "You're going to be all right now, kitten. We're going to take care of everything."

"Oh, Daddy!"

Our truly fearless leader leapt into her father's arms then, letting out a huge, dramatic-Pizzazz sob. Harvey's eyes squinched shut as he embraced her back.

"You did the right thing, Phyllis," he said, and I felt a lump closing up my throat. "I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you, Daddy." Her voice was so tiny.

"Hey, check it out," Clash murmured, taking another drag and leaning forward in her chair. "The ball's about to drop. It's all lit up and stuff."

Everyone in the room, maybe even throughout the station, stopped what they were doing and watched the screen, letting the music and its message sink in as the countdown began.

**

* * *

Raya**

"_Mi amour_. Raya, darling, are you okay?"

The warmth of Luis's voice startled me out of a sound, refreshingly painless sleep. I tried to sit up a bit and looked around at the empty room. "I'm all right, I think. Where is everyone...where is Selena, my baby? Oh no, is she all right? What happened?"

"Nothing happened, love," he assured me, gently kissing my cheek. "Our daughter is sleeping in the nursery, where she was taken after you were moved to your own room and given a sedative. Aja and Shana are with your family in the lounge; your doctor asked them to give you some time alone, but your mother insisted that I stay with you. I woke you so we could see the new year together."

I couldn't help laughing a little. "Are you being serious? My mama made you stay with me and actually left my side?"

"After she was assured a few million times that you would be fine, yes, she did. She's a smart woman, that Maria."

"_Let me grow, _

_Let me show you more of what I know..."_

Luis climbed up beside me on the bed and cradled me in his arms. He'd turned on the television, apparently. A sparkle caught my attention; I glanced down at my new diamond ring and wiggled my finger a bit, admiring it. I could feel Luis practically glowing with pride.

"Tell me you remember why you're wearing that."

This time I laughed out loud. "Luis! Honestly." I snuggled deeper into his loving embrace. "No woman could ever forget something like that, especially the way you went about it."

"_Let me fly!_

_Let me touch your heart and make you cry..."_

"Thank you," I said to him, suddenly feeling on the verge of tears. "You've never left my side for a moment through all of this and I can't tell you how much I love you for that. And everything else."

He tilted my head up and softly touched his lips to mine. "You never left my heart for a moment. Not once. I never stopped thinking about you, Carmen, my wife, and I could never stop loving you."

We kissed again, more deeply, until both of us were left panting for air. The moment cooled, and I relaxed on top of his chest, watching as the ball began to drop on the TV screen.

**

* * *

Jerrica**

"You sit here and take _care_ of yourself, understand?" Rio kissed me hard and gazed into my tired eyes. "I mean it. You've been through enough. I'm going to go make sure Deirdre's all right. _Stay put._"

"Yes, dear, whatever you say, dear," I teased, accepting the offered paper cup of tea and patting his arm as he left my side. Next to me, Kimber was still holding her head in her hands.

"Man...Jerrica, this is beyond outrageous, and I mean that in the worst way possible," she moaned, shaking her head. "Ohmigod. He - I mean, he tried to - he _almost - _"

"I know, Kim, I was there," I interrupted, taking a tentative sip from the steaming cup. "I had to see the whole thing. I watched him die."

Kimber let out a louder groan. "God, Jerrica, I thought you promised me you wouldn't bring this drama shit on yourself anymore. What the hell happened to that, huh?"

I sighed. "Kimber, I don't _know_. Look, I certainly don't go seeking it out anymore. It just finds _me_, okay? God."

"I know," she said miserably. "I'm sorry...it's just..."

"Yeah," I said. "Just."

We opted to sit in silence and let the drama the Stingers were banging out onstage drown out our sorrows for a while. Vile as they'd been to us, they did provide an excellent distraction...and honestly, I couldn't ignore the fact that Riot had been there. Riot had tried to help save all of us, I knew it, even poor Eric. I was too tired to think about it, and really, the music was so sweeping, so infectiously healing that I didn't feel like hating anyone anymore.

Beside me, Kimber began to cry. I took her in my arms and hugged her, while Rio returned to us with a steadily improving Deirdre huddling in a blanket. I hugged her, too, and let Rio embrace me from behind. All four of us gazed up at the dazzling ball of light beginning to descend from its manmade perch in the night sky.

"_Let me free!_

_(Let me free)_

_To follow my own star!"_

"Thank you, Jerrica," Deirdre whispered from my lap. "For everything."

"Anytime," I replied, "and you too, sis."

"That's my line," she warbled, hiccuping. I patted her shoulder affectionately and withdrew a bit to return Rio's embrace. He kissed my neck gratefully.

"Never again," he murmured. I could almost feel the relief pouring off his skin. "Never, ever again."

"_Set me free!_

_Can't you see...?"_

"I know, babe." A great, heaving sigh eased out of me. "Don't worry." I looked up at him, with tears in my own eyes, I was sure. "This time I truly think the worst may be over."

"_Five...four...three._.." The crowd was beginning to chant over the music, while the ball itself flashed in time to their chanting. A great, bombastic burst of guitar soared out from the massive speakers as Riot and his band pushed the song to a sizzling, tear-jerking climax:

"_...We _are_ who we _are!!_"_

"_Two...ONE...HAPPY NEW YEAR!!_"

Everything erupted around us, confetti included, as Rio and I shared what felt like a first kiss, and held each other for what could have been a lifetime. Strange...in that one kiss, during that one song...it really was enough to make me feel as if I'd been reborn.

* * *

**TBC in the final installment, hopefully coming soon.**

* * *


	9. Echoes

_**DISCLAIMER: As usual, all rights reserved to Hasbro/Sony Wonder, 1985 - 2008. None of these characters are mine (save for those I had to create to fill in the blanks - Daniel and John Raymond, Antoine Sands, "Marianne", etc.) and I make no profit off of this work.**_

_**NOTE: This contains portions of the Kaddish, the Jewish prayer of mourning. I tried to use it as appropriately as possible, and absolutely NO disrespect of any kind is intended; the Misfits merely need some closure and Clash is the only one who hasn't, er, lost her religion. In other news, online translators sometimes fail; blame that if the Stingers' German does too. Same goes for the Serbo-Croatian and Spanish languages I've used in previous chapters. **_

_**This chapter is slapped with an R rating for swearing, comfort sex without the smut, and other possibly disturbing things. It also ties all the loose ends from my sorta prologue to all this, "The Scientist", into this story, as well as "Our Time Is Now" and (hopefully) the series itself. This here has been grueling to produce on account of a crippling case of writers' block, so feedback is really that much more welcomed - if anyone's still reading this, that is. **_

_**Showtime, Synergy:**_

__

_**Chapter 9: Echoes**_

**Pizzazz**

A sea of indifferent faces regarded me from all sides of this suffocating room, waiting for me to speak. My gaze flicked again to where the urn sat alone, surrounded by buckets of donated flowers from people and companies I knew didn't really care about Eric at all; they were all simply playing the 'good businessman' charade by paying respects that never existed. Posers, I snorted, and faced the audience again. Not once in this storied career of mine had I ever had a problem performing for the public, and I wasn't about to start now.

"I'm not gonna lie to you," I said, leaning to rest my elbows on the edge of the little podium. "Eric was not a nice guy. He cheated, he embezzled, he lied, he stole. Turned out towards the end he was violent, mentally ill, and a danger to society too." My eyes closed. I focused on the rhythm of my breathing, pictured myself hovering outside my body so it could finish this task uninterrupted by emotion.

"But never in all the time I knew him did Eric try to conceal the way he was. He was proud of every dirty underhanded achievement, every minion he stepped on on his way to the top. He was outspoken to his enemies, and cold to those close to him. Eric never questioned himself, never doubted his abilities for a second. I guess that was really part of the problem and not the solution." Tears were starting to sting my eyes. _Not gonna happen_, I ordered the tears, swallowing hard. _But nice try_. I drew myself up and tried again.

"All the same, it was Eric's hard work that gave my band the push we needed to make it on our own," I admitted. "It was Eric's determination that got our songs on the radio and got us top billing in the best venues in town. He and I, we had a kind of...understanding, y'know? I didn't like him, he didn't like me - "

(_PizzazzIstillloveyougoddamnitdiditforyouALLFORYOUPHYLLIS_)

"But we got each other's vibe. Both of us wanted the same things in life."

For some reason I paused then, I guess because the pain inside was making me feel drunk. Hungover, stupid, puking-on-everything dead-ass drunk. A few of the faces in the people-sea became recognizable at the rate of a popcorn maker on full blast; Jerrica Benton and her lapdog, all the Holo-brats except the drummer who just birthed her litter, that slut Harrison, the idiot movie mogul Sands, the goddamn Stingers - Jesus Christ, was that _Zanthos_ I saw lurking in the back row? All these people who blatantly hated Eric had dared to show up for his last party. Or maybe they all wanted to witness the spectacle of his killer being forced to give her victim's own eulogy. God, I felt sick. _Keep going. Don't you back down, Gabor, not now, not _ever.

"Yeah, okay, so I had to take his life from him! So what?" I announced, literally turning up my nose at the disgusted murmurs that arose from the audience. "Listen, people,all my charges have been dropped, okay? It's called _justifiable homicide_. I did what I had to do to keep someone who _wasn't_ a danger to society alive and well. And I'll tell you something else!"

The room was really buzzing now. I could see Stormer beginning to stand up from her front row seat, and Roxy too. "_Shut up!_" The shriek erupted out of me like a solar flare. "Everyone shut up and sit down right _now_."

The silence was deafening.

Then it very slowly occurred to me that I hadn't said a word aloud. I'd just been standing here. Saying nothing. Feeling fuckin' insane and damn sure acting the part like a pro. Maybe I was becoming a pro, who knew.

Big, dumb eyes were gaping at me from every angle, judging me, waiting with that bated breath for Pizzazz's big meltdown, but I refused to give them the performance they all craved. "I will not have all of you walking away from here today remembering Eric Raymond only as a murderous psychopath. I want everyone in this room to hear me when I say that Eric was the hardest working man in the music business. Never once did he apologize for anything he did or to anyone he hurt, but for such an asshole, Eric was honest in the ways he went about_being_ one." I sucked in a breath. "And his efforts didn't go to waste."

Roxy was at my side, Jetta appearing on the other. Both of them gently took me by the elbows and removed me from the podium, which was probably for the best. My self had joined again with my body, rendering any attempts to struggle utterly useless. I was led out of the funeral home and into the parking lot, where the death-black limousine waited to escort us away.

"'Zazz?" Jetta said after a period of stony, engine-rumbled silence. She and Stormer were fidgeting at each other, each woman wordlessly daring the other to speak next. Jetta lost and turned back to me. "You're...you're positively sure you're up to doing this, now?"

I blinked, willing the haze of grief to leave me alone and let me think. Eric's urn glinted at me from the safety of Roxy's lap; slowly, I reached over and took it from her, cradling it in my arms. My eyes closed and I turned away.

"Don't ever question me," I said to the window.

Both my hands cradled the strangely heavy urn, the rest of me having long since turned to cold, numb stone. Kinda ironic or something, I guess, being given the responsibility for the remains of the body I made lifeless. Roxy and Stormer quietly stood at either side of me; I was well aware of Clash and Jetta bringing up the rear while I sighed, staring out at the ocean.

"So I guess this is it, Eric," I said to the heavy metallic object. "End of the line. Nothin' left to say, but, y'know, sorry and all." Roxy helped me balance the urn with one hand while I wiped a tear with the other. My hand returned. "Thanks for...I don't know, making us rich. Well, _I_ was already rich, all my girls here, thanks for makin' _them_ rich...and stuff."

The harp's whine rose in pitch, the building wind urging it on. "Okay, and since you can't hear me and stuff, you know, okay, I did, y'know, sort of care about you. You know. I felt the same. I did. In my own way."

A gust of sharp salty wind assaulted my body, whipping my trenchcoat around my legs and torso; I sighed and held the urn close to my chest, my muscles quivering. "All right, fuck it then. Fuck it, I'll say it." A few stray tears splattered onto the little container. "I don't care. You still dumb enough to think I care? You know I'll fuckin' say it." My voice dropped, low and conspiratorial. "I did love you, Eric Raymond, once upon a time. I did. I loved your money-grubbing, law-breaking, stupid-grudge-holdin' ass. And I know you loved me back, in your own sick way." I breathed in deep and looked out at the roiling Pacific. "Ah, Christ, I wish this had never happened."

I blinked at the water, contemplating. From behind me:

"I'm not _supposed_ to say this, guys, it's the part of the _Rabbi._ There's supposed to be a congregation! And I'm a chick here, I've never so much as _touched_the Torah, not to mention, I mean, oh, he's in an _urn!_ It's unnatural, I-I can't do it!"

"Oh, c'mon, then, Constance, we can be your congregation! It's the thought that counts, just give ol' Raymond a wee bit of closure."

"I..."

"Come_on_, Clash, you can spill it all out in Confession later, just _do_ it before 'Zazz starts to - "

"You freakin' moron, Roxy, that's _Catholicism_ - "

"Will you all please just stop!" That was Stormer, of course. "Please, Clash, what does it matter? Do it in English if you have to, just please...we have to put him to rest somehow. Please?"

"But that's - !" I heard Clash sigh, and knew she'd relented. "Fine, just..." Her voice died off into a whisper.

I felt Roxy give my forearm an encouraging pat. While turning to all four of my best friends, my true family, I spotted my father a few feet away, his expression stoic. He nodded at me; I then nodded at my girls. All four nodded back; Jetta joined hands with Clash, who closed her eyes.

"_May His great Name grow exalted and sanctified..."_

"Amen," said Jetta and Stormer in unison. I held the urn out while Stormer and Roxy gingerly pried the lid off in one movement.

"_In the world that He created as He willed."_

There was a great, unearthly wailing sound as the wind sliced through the strings of the harp; I was briefly blinded by a green flash of my own hair, and fought to keep it pushed aside. Clash's voice was soothing, her words flowing together into a mantra.

"_Glorified and sanctified be G-d's great name throughout the world which He has created according to His will. May He establish His kingdom in your lifetime and during your days, and within the life of the entire House of Israel, speedily and soon."_

"Amen," I joined in, carefully untwisting the tie on the little plastic bag and prying the plastic open, exposing the ashes to the elements.

"_May His great name be blessed forever and to all eternity."_

Eerie silence, except for the tormented wail of that damned harp. Clash's voice struggled above the sound.

"_Blessed and praised, glorified and exalted, extolled and honored, adored and lauded be the name of the Holy One, blessed be He, beyond all the blessings and hymns, praises and consolations that are ever spoken in the world."_

"Amen."

With Stormer holding one side, Roxy holding the other, myself balancing the middle, all three of us in unison launched Eric's remains over the cliff. I watched, feeling almost serene, as the breeze took hold of the ashes and scattered them freely into the sea spray.

"_May there be abundant peace from heaven, and life, for us and for all Israel."_

"Amen," said everyone around me. I sighed.

"And off he goes," I murmured to the ocean. "Happy scamming, Eric. Weasel some dough out of those senior citizens for me and save me a seat beside you wherever you end up, okay?"

There was a moment of peace then; even the harp quieted. Then:

"_He who creates peace in His celestial heights, may he create peace for us and for all Israel."_

"Amen," everyone quietly repeated, and then there was nothing but faint sounds of waves crashing upon the bluffs. After a while I could hear politely retreating footsteps from behind my turned back. The procession had apparently gotten bored and now wanted to go on home to their own little death-free lives. I fucking envied them like you wouldn't believe.

"Nice job," I eventually told Clash, who blushed a bit.

"Thanks. Daddy did actually used to read to me from the Torah sometimes when I was little. He wasn't supposed to, but Daddy does a lot of stuff he's not supposed to." She grinned then, the grin fading when I didn't return it. My own father was approaching.

"I'm quite proud of you, Phyllis," he said, his voice gravelly. "You've done well here." Then he bent a little closer and thrust a thin package into my hand. "I have arranged it so that you can take some time off for a while, down at a very exclusive resort near Montego Bay where you'll be taken excellent care of. Your flight leaves at seven A.M. tomorrow."

"Thank you Daddy," I said dutifully, even though I knew damn well what the mystery in his voice meant, and turned away from him as he told the other Misfits he was returning to the office. Total business as usual. My eyes fixed on the bottom of the empty urn.

"Hey," Roxy finally said to me. "You wanna go down to The Scene, get a bite to eat?"

"The Scene?"

"Yeah. The Scene."

Memories of the early gigs slowly came back to me: playing to drunken creeps shouting for our tits (just like Eric'd taunted me about) and later, of crashing Stormer's shows (cause hey, in those days if she wasn't playing with the Misfits, she wasn't gonna play, period). I just kind of gave a mirthless little laugh. I couldn't so much as crack a damn smile. "Are you serious? We haven't been there all together in frickin' ages."

Roxy, who'd now stepped into my line of vision, shrugged at me. "I dunno. We don't have to. You're the boss."

_I'm the boss._ That sounded good to me. That sounded right for once.

"Yeah," I said to her after awhile. I replaced the urn's lid. "Let's go. I think I'm hungry."

**Riot**

"Such a tragedy this is," Minx cooed, pulling her black trenchcoat closer to her body to block out the ocean chill. "Poor American boy. So misunderstood by society."

"Oh, so now that he's deceased, he's in your favor again?" My Rapture smirked, a gentle taunt ripe in her voice. "How very twisted of you, Ingrid."

"It wasn't his fault," Minx replied, sniffing. "Americans keep mental illness so stigmatized; it's no wonder he never recovered."

"Silly, slutty necrophile," Rapture giggled under her breath, and Minx scoffed loudly, her brown eyes blazing. "Spoken like a true_ heuchler_, darling Phoebe. _Schließen Sie Ihren dreckigen Mund!_"

The other set of brown eyes rolled in disdain. "Whatever."

My head throbbed with a dull, insistent pain. "Ladies, please. The matter is laid to rest now," I soothed as I turned them both away from the precipice. "Let it remain that way,_ ja?_"

The limousine was waiting for us, just behind that overtly familiar pink and gold Chevrolet. An unusually cold and violent wind whipped itself up and across the cliffs, prompting the harp to scream and my soul to ache again for the tropics. Minx and Rapture huddled together before my form as I opened the car door and ushered them both inside. Five dark, diminutive figures drifted towards their car, their collective auras visibly weighing them down. My focus sharpened on the leader of their pack, whose aura was the heaviest of all. Fascinating...she'd become an entirely different woman now, one whose scars screamed for all to feast upon. She carried it quite well for someone who quite obviously had not wallowed in the filth of life until now. Yes, very intriguing, and indeed a tragedy. I could not keep myself from drinking in her presence as the other Misfits tried coaxing her inside the car.

So what next? I asked myself as I watched the spectacle, feeling very crass for housing such a thought at such a crucificial moment and feeling very much out-of-order with the fates that guided me. What of our futures? I turned to the cliff briefly so that Minx and Rapture would not hear my sigh. Our masterpiece was finished, flawless as always...but still homeless. None of the label offers had pleased me enough for me to grace them with the commercial rights to our talents, and so the Stingers remained free agents. Financially, we were secure again, maybe secure enough to distribute the record domestically, but an international release? That would cost another fortune. Yes, I thought as Pizzazz turned to me across the way, the use of another's fortune would obviously be ideal.

"Riot?" Rapture said sweetly from inside the vehicle. "Aren't you coming?"

I did not answer; the green-tressed Amazon had paralyzed me with a piercing glare, as if she could see my very thoughts. I met that gaze evenly, yet inside she still prompted a sensation in me akin to fear. How unsettling.

No, I decided, bestowing upon her a respectful nod of acknowledgment. To work my way inside her darkened world and coax from her the keys to her flourishing rebuilt empire would be simple, painfully so - and in a good way - but that was too far to go, even with Phyllis Gabor, who was now sneering at me as she finally ducked inside her limousine and closed the door. She did possess our keys, but there were far more humane methods with which to extract them. Ms. Gabor did not deserve to be broken any more than she already was in the process, and if I tried to break her in now, I might find her to still be armed and dangerous. The thought almost made me smile. Almost.

"Come_on_, Riot, let's go!" Minx was demanding. "Please, I cannot take being here one more second. I need a good shopping spree and a night on the town!"

"We both do," Rapture supplicated. I closed my eyes and chose to voice this particular sigh.

"All right," I said, bending to slide inside the cabin. Both girls fixed me with blatant glaring pouts as I shut the door behind me.

"Oh, come now, dear ones, don't be like that. Look, I'll make it up to you." I reached for the intercom console. "Rodeo Drive, please, driver. And do make sure you make an entrance. Call ahead for additional security if you must."

"_Yes sir."_

And with that the vintage Rolls purred to life and slid its way out and away from the funeral procession before any other cars could do the same. "There," I said, satisfied. "A few thousand surrendered to our good friends at Neiman Marcus should do the trick. Perhaps an excursion to Tiffany & Co. I will spare you no expense, _meine kostbaren Göttinnen, ja_?"

I had hoped to make her smile with the native language, but my dear Minx was nevertheless fidgeting in her seat with tears quite apparent in her eyes. Rapture was massaging her upper thigh.

"Oh, I am showing emotion, Rory, I know, forgive me. I simply cannot bear to think about it any more. It is too much," she volunteered, and turned to watch the sea. Her tears continued to leave tiny wet trails down that perfect face of porcelain; my heart ached for her.

"It is all too much to take," she said, a hitch in her voice. Immediately I shifted across the cabin to sit beside her and took her hand.

"Listen to me, Ingrid. It is over now, all over, laid to rest. Ingrid. He is at rest."

The porcelain face crumpled with unexpected grief and shock as I spoke; even Phoebe appeared overwhelmed, and I admit, I was quite surprised. It was not as if Eric Raymond deserved to be grieved over in such a manner; indeed, in _any_ manner, but that was irrelevant at this time. I did not panic; I knew exactly what to do. Very calmly I lay my hands upon them both.

"Ingrid. Phoebe. Listen to me, to your Rory. Listen to my voice. Let it soothe you...do this for me, yes, for Rory. Listen to my voice..."

**Jerrica**

It was over. All over; still, I kept my eyes glued to the Misfits while they all huddled around Eric Raymond's now empty urn and made their way up to their waiting limousine. The wind harp sang and thrummed while most of the funeral-goers looked on woefully, and the whole time, I kept glancing over my shoulder as if I were expecting Eric himself to offer me false consolation for his own passing. Maybe that was what I wanted, just to be able to let go of this aging and now irrelevant grudge. I just couldn't believe it. God, I couldn't believe he was actually..._dead_.

"Hard to digest, isn't it?" Rio said to me, and I jumped. Had I spoken aloud? I didn't _think_ I had. "Why did you want to come here today, anyways? Considering the history..."

I chewed hard on my lower lip and ordered myself not to shed tears for this monster. "I don't know. I must be insane, more insane than he was." A sigh left me. "I guess I just wanted to show him up one last time. If the tables were turned, I doubt he'd have had the guts to show his face at _my_ funeral."

Rio shuddered, tightly shutting his eyes. "God, please don't say things like that to me, Jer. Too many times, it's been too close."

"Sorry," I told him, even though I wasn't.

He took my hand, and we stood there for a few minutes longer until a bit of common sense gradually took charge again. Both of us knew Shana and Kimber were still waiting at the top of the hill with the car. I for one had never been so eager to see that garish pink and gold former Chevy, and the second I climbed into its backseat those tears overwhelmed me. Kimber and Shana slid in after me, while Rio thrust his arm through the tiny window to rub my elbow. "I don't know why," I kept saying. "I don't know why I'm wasting grief on him."

"That's okay, Jerrica." Shana gave my arm a sympathetic pat. "Your grief doesn't know any better. It can't be helped."

Rio started the engine, and no one said anything else for the rest of our drive home.

Hours later, long after dark, my eyes ached from all the tears I'd forced myself to spill. The mansion was bathed in an eerie hush of empty mourning. I hadn't moved from the edge of my bed since coming home; I'd only shed my funeral garb as if the fabric itself were diseased and lay down to wallow in depraved and miserable solitude. Ashley at one point had come up to bring me a cup of tea, accompanied by Kimber, who gently assaulted me with a stream of nagging inquiries as to how I was doing as if I would be able to answer her. Silly girl, I thought, and noticed my pillow was cold and drenched. I heard another knock on my bedroom door.

"Sweetheart?"

My husband.

"It's open," I told him in a dry croak. The tea still sat untouched on my nightstand.

The hush of the mansion rushed in to swallow the room as Rio quietly opened the door and shut it behind him. My eyes followed his movements as he circled the bed, replaced the old cup of tea with a fresh steaming one, removed his shoes, and lay down beside me. The numbness inside me tingled away just a little when his arm slipped around my waist and pulled my limp body against his strength.

"How is Deirdre?"

"She's doing fine; Mrs. Bailey said she came back from her doctor's appointment early this afternoon. Krissie and Ashley took her out to see a movie - "

"Did they take their bodyguards?!"

"Jerrica, of course they did! Of course they did. Lie back down," he said. "Martin dropped Ba Nee off so she could go with them too. She's spending the night."

"Oh." I blinked. "Okay."

Rio nuzzled my ear. "Don't worry. The worst is over now," he said to me, his breath low and warm on my neck. Involuntarily I offered a shiver and a gentle sigh. "Yeah, so you say," I said. "Rio, how did it come to this?"

A light touch of his lips on my earlobe. "I don't know, Jer, it just did. Shit happens."

"Oh, please don't curse," I groaned. "And I'm serious, what - what happened to our lives? When did everything become so surreal, so sick and profane? Was it Jem? Was it my fault? Tell me the truth, Rio, once and for all."

I knew he was tempted to say yes. Of course it was Jem, of _course_ it was my doing. No one would have bothered to sabotage my wedding if I hadn't turned myself into someone else years ago. No one would have sullied my reputation if I hadn't formed my own force of nature with a band no one could beat. No one would have gone after me or anyone I loved had I not kept so many festering secrets...but I never would have kept anything a secret had my father not kept his, the worst secret a person could possibly keep. And he wouldn't have kept his had my mom not left his side the way she had. It was all out of anyone's hands. Shit happened.

"It's all over now," Rio said again, holding me tight. "It's all in the past. We all did the best we could under those circumstances."

I kept silent, organizing my thoughts to coherency. Then I told him I was sorry. And I meant it.

"Why?"

"For Jem. For Riot. For Eric." A fresh sob hitched in my throat; I swallowed it as Rio sympathetically kissed me on the neck. "For everything." I wondered as more tears flowed anew if I'd ever stop apologizing for the choices I'd made, and also wondered why those kisses were traveling now across my collarbone as I was rolled over onto my back, letting Rio taste my misery.

"Oh, so now my pain is an aphrodisiac?" I asked him, smiling as he shed his shirt. Rio smiled back, saying nothing, and instead lay his hands on me with such searing affection I could not resist him. What little I wore was now giving way under his touch.

He told me he loved me moments later as I lay there shuddering from his gentle ministrations, and for once I took it to heart. Warmth overwhelmed me, flooded me inside, making me whole and taking the numbness with it. He always did that; he always knew exactly what I needed to make me whole again. "Love you...more..." I managed through clenched teeth as the room grew darker, shrouding us in an aura of peace as I felt his bare skin against mine. Comfort. My body opened to welcome his, the warmth centered and pulsed with new life, and then all that had gone dark in the world suddenly burst open, becoming blinding white heat. Scorching purity. Sounds danced and clenched in my throat as we melted together, letting our minds and hearts be cleansed, and I clung to him awash with relief. He sighed to me, spoke the words again, and sank down beside me to sleep.

Now the silence was welcoming, and I let myself smile in the darkness. All that was left behind in the wake of the past was the two of us. That was it. That was all that had ever mattered. That was all we would ever need to survive.

**Pizzazz**

"_Phyl?"_

_Warm, ambient sunlight tried to pry its gentle way underneath her eyelids; meanwhile, her warm, considerably less gentle manager-with-benefits tried to prod the curve of her rump so that the rest of her responded in kind. A groan rumbled in her throat._

"_Leave me alone, Eric. I'm tired."_

"_Awww." Prod, prod, rub. "Poor little thing. I was too much for you, wasn't I?"_

_Pizzazz reached behind her, tugged the pillow out from under his head and promptly whacked him with it. "You are disgusting," she said and curled back into a ball. "You know that? All you ever wanna do now is fuck."_

"_I'm only a man, Pizzazz."_

"_No, you're a pig."_

"_Well, yes, that too, I suppose - but my dear, you can't blame a man - "_

"_A pig."_

_Eric sighed. "A _man_, for wanting all the best in life." _

"_Like hell I can't. I can blame you for anything I want; you're an easy target that way, Eric, I'll give you that."_

_Unsettled, Pizzazz inched her way towards the edge of the down-soft mattress, as far away from him as she could get, and tried not to let him hear her sigh. The mattress began to cave in on itself gradually the closer Eric shifted to meet her body. His lips brushed against her ear; her eyes closed as lust heated her inside. The early tropical sun blinded her._

"_I'll tell you what," he purred. "You and I, we're gonna go out today and make a special appearance. We're gonna shake the hands of each and every crusty senior citizen vacationing on this tub, give our public image a very charitable boost. And while I'm on that subject..." Another nibble at the neck. "Give me enough time to wheel and deal during the captain's banquet and I just might be able to land us - land _you_ - a hefty dose of corporate sponsorship. What do you say to that, eh, darling? A series of Pepsi commercials here, a sparkling Benetton ad there...think of it, Pizzazz, a massive world tour with an absolutely unlimited budget. We could hire the best songwriters in the business and propel all your records to multi-platinum status. Think of the star power you'll have. Think of how fast yours would eclipse Jem's."_

"_I am nothing _but_star power, Eric dear, and besides, what kind of corporate whore do you take me for anyway?"_

"_Mmmm, little do you know, I think nothing of the sort. You are my lover, dear Phyllis, not just my client. Yes...my star client." His hands were on her everywhere. "You are going to be the most famous woman in the world - screw Lerner, screw Luna Dark, screw Jem, screw every one of them."_

_I bet you would, too, she thought, wanting to grin and hurl at the same time. God, it was so fucking _white_ in here, you'd think the Bahama Cruise Lines would have a bit more money to throw around for some decent interior decorators. White everywhere. I need my damn sunglasses._

_So saying, Pizzazz rolled herself away from her manager and sat up, blinking, ignoring Eric's lustful groan of protest. The light absolutely poured in through the windows, illuminating everything it touched, reflecting off of objects it shouldn't have. Pizzazz squinted and rummaged about in the drawer next to her, retrieved the sunglasses, slid them on with extreme caution. Something was wrong. Definitely. She took in her surroundings very, very slowly. Eric was moaning for pity._

"_Aw, Phyl, where are you going? I thought we were just getting started, baby."_

_She rose to her feet, held her hands out in front of her. They were stained with burnt gunpowder. She sniffed them. The death smelled real but she did not cry. _

_And now the room had shifted its shape; the floor underneath her no longer rolled back and forth with the gentle rhythm of the sea, the portholes had widened into large, luxurious patio doors that offered her a bright glittering jewel of a shoreline. Now she understood. She turned to Eric, but he was not in bed. In an instant his arms were snaking around her waist possessively._

"_We're going to make history, you and I," he was purring in between gentle neck bites. "You and I are going to rule the world together and make the careers of the Holograms as dead as disco."_

_But the ocean before her was expanding, Eric's needs were overpowering, his words filled her with bile, and Pizzazz erupted in a moment of violent clarity. _

"_You_moron_," she shrieked, slapping at him with an open palm; Eric recoiled. "Don't you get it yet?! Don't you understand?! It is _not_ 1986 and we are _not_ on the Bahama Queen!" She whirled on him fiercely. "It's 1990 and guess what? Your dumb ass is _dead,_ okay, _dead_! What's more, I killed you! Why? Because your dumb dead ass went crazy and started trying to kill people, namely _'Jem'_. And you know what? Don't fucking lie to me. Don't fucking stand there telling me I'm your only one when you've always,_always_ been obsessed with that idiot tramp Jerrica. _Don't_," Pizzazz growled when his mouth opened to voice protest. "I'm not stupid, Raymond. We made you plenty of money, _shitloads_ of money! You were one of the most powerful execs in the biz! There was no good reason for you to chase after Starlight Music other than her. Okay? You had it all but you, you greedy son of a bitch, you just had to have more. Including me. And I am _nobody's_ fucking trophy mistress. Not Sean Harrison's, not fucking Riot's, and sure as Hell not yours. Yeah. We were a good team, Eric, but there is no 'U' in team and you never got that so it doesn't matter, it's dead and gone and so are you. Okay? So just...just stop trying to fuck me, and - and telling me all that 'love' bullshit, cause it isn't real, not anymore, and I'm fucking tired. I need to sleep. I need to..." She trailed off, closing her eyes and sitting down right there on the floor. "Fuck, I just need to escape."_

_Her eyes stayed closed and Eric, for once, stayed silent, until silence and loneliness were all Phyllis had left. Then she felt him, literally felt him touch her shoulder. She gasped._

"_This_is_ escape, Phyl," he said to her with a ridiculous tenderness. "This is our last chance."_

_Pizzazz sucked back an angry sob and stared at her knees. "This isn't real, Eric. You aren't real. I shouldn't be talking to you."_

"_Probably not," he conceded with a smirk in his tone, and lay his arm across her shoulders. "But this is the only way that I can talk to you."_

_I can feel that, she marveled, he's really touching me...this is crazy, maybe I really do belong in this place. She could hear the surf lapping up sand beyond the glass. "Raymond," she said slowly, "whatever it is you gotta tell me, you better tell me now. Cause it's already too late."_

_He slid his palm under her chin and lifted it, as he would a small child. "It's never too late," Eric stated, and kissed her hard, just like the old days. Her eyes closed again and Pizzazz could have sworn she was actually floating above the floor. Wow. He could have sucked all the oxygen clean out of her lungs and she woulda _let_ him, how hot was that? Still, though..._

"_Wait," she breathed, pulling away from his mouth. "Eric, wait a sec. What about...what about her?"_

"_What about her?"_

"_I mean, why? Why go insane like that over your boss's dumb blonde daughter, huh, when you and me always had our thing? Did you ever, like, mean all the stuff you said? Or was I nothing but a cheap fuck for you?"_

_Eric's familiar smirk now resembled more of a smile. Maybe a real one. "I'm a man of my word, Phyllis. I never bluff."_

"_Yeah, okay."_

_The smile ate the smirk alive. "Never," he quipped, and she suddenly missed him so deeply it pierced her right through. "Listen, you...you shouldn't worry anymore. About what you had to do, Phyllis. You obviously didn't have any choice."_

"_Not like you left me any," she retorted._

"_Touche." His hand brushed a frayed strand of silken green away from her face. "I'm serious. I was too far gone in that body to be helped and now I'll take responsibility for my own...actions. You, Phyllis darling, need to go on and live your life at the top without me."_

_Pizzazz glanced at her hands again and noticed they were now clean, powder free. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah, will do, Eric."_

"_Promise me. Promise you're going to do that for me."_

_She licked her lips and nodded. "Solid."_

_He seemed pleased by that, all leers and grins like the old Eric Raymond. "Oh, and one more thing, Pizzazz."_

"_Yeah? What's that, Raymond?"_

"_Come here for a moment," he said, gently nudging her closer to him while the white light enveloped them both. "I really don't have long to stay..."_

_I smiled..._and then he was gone.

Of course I sat up and looked around, like you do when you're sure it was all real and whatever you dreamed of should still be there, but he wasn't. I blinked and gazed all around me, everywhere. He was gone. And everything was still white.

**Stormer**

So for like, three days, I've been looking through this folder. We'd all known that since Eric...died...the cops had been trying to locate any trace of his next of kin. They came up empty. Neither parent living, no siblings, no aunts or uncles. Nothing. That's why the Gabor's lawyers had to arrange for all five of us to be executrices of what was left of Eric's estate. And I'd thought it really sad, to have no family to turn to, no one to care for or know they cared for you. The poor bastard. Literally. I didn't really have to imagine, you know, how it felt and all - although Craig had taken on all the dirty responsibilities after Mom and Dad's accident and had felt it necessary to be the buffer for my struggles ever since - I couldn't imagine not having _anyone_. I couldn't fathom that kind of desperation he'd obviously lived on, and it made me cry every time I tried, so I'd stopped trying.

Anyway, once the cops did stumble on a lead, it was like, staggering. Good thing Harvey (I still had a problem calling him that instead of Mr. Gabor even though he'd explicitly told me to) thought to send Pizzazz away, put her in the care of one of those hoity-toity psychologist friends of his down in the tropics, cause she was in no condition to hear any of this. Heck, Roxy and I hadn't even believed them and insisted, like the morons we apparently were, to go through all those old files ourselves and prove them wrong. We had to; the truth they were feeding us was just too creepy. So with all the self-righteousness we could muster, all four of us went and slogged through mind-numbing legal document after legal document from World Studios, from the Starlight corporation, and all the child welfare agencies in between, tracing our way back through time.

And of course, humbled, we'd landed on the same conclusion that the cops did. Since we'd demanded to verify it for ourselves, it was now up to us, or me, really, to break the news to the Bentons. It killed me, it really did, but I thought it was only fair. Sitting here now in the waiting room of Jerrica's office, I was starting to think I should have booked a room right next to Pizzazz. I was insane, this was _so_ none of my business. Yet here I sat, nauseous as anything, trying to patch together some kind of way to break this gently.

"Yeah, right," I whispered to the thick manila folder my lap. The big, important-looking phone on Joanie's desk shrilled to life; the secretary snatched it up and whispered something into the receiver with a short nod and a glance at me.

"Jerrica's ready to see you now, Ms. Phillips."

"Thank you," I replied meekly. "I'll let myself in."

She went back to her work, and I reached for the doorknob. Both Kimber and Jerrica shot me a startled glance when I came in, even though they were expecting me. Even though I'd been a guest in their house! I guess I couldn't really blame them, though, all things considered.

"Have a seat, Stormer."

I did so. Both of them kind of stared at me, like they knew already. I don't know, though, maybe I was hallucinating. We'd all survived being dragged through hell the past few days; everyone was obviously still on edge. Duh, Mary. And you're about to make it so much worse.

"How are you holding up?" Asked Jerrica as she sank into her office chair. I faked a smile. "Fine, fine. It's fine. We're getting through together." Pause. "How about you?"

Jerrica graced me with a faked smile of her own, cool and smoothly calculated. "The same." She nodded at my lap, her smile waning. "What's in the folder?"

Oh, man, I said to myself, heart fluttering in panic. Here we go.

I handed it over to her with one hand behind my back, fingers crossed. "Okay, well, you know me, you guys. I hate to make a bad situation worse, y'know? Those are just a few of the documents the police had us look at..." I trailed off as Jerrica began to rifle through the folder. "They were public record, so...uh, anyway. Here's the thing. Uh, so they'd been, like, trying to find Eric's next of kin, to notify 'em or whatever, and they couldn't find anybody. Like, at all." God, I hated how my speech went all Valley whenever my nerves got the best of me. "I know his father - I think his name was Dan? - died in like '82, '83, and his mother died kind of soon after Eric placed her in a group home. He had no brothers or sisters, no living aunts or uncles. No friends unless you count his clients and former business contacts."

"Poor guy," Kimber murmured, peering over her sister's shoulder to read. Jerrica said nothing as her blue eyes darted back and forth across the fading print. She didn't have to; that frown spoke volumes. "That's unsettling; there's a Daniel Raymond listed in here as Father's 'consultant'."

"Gee," Kimber said dryly, "I wonder who that could have been."

Jerrica wordlessly murmured in agreement. "This bank statement says that Daniel 'helped' Father take out a loan in 1972 to start Starlight Music, which he co-signed! And then another one, a home loan, in '74, but that was in Father's name only. Oh, I'm sure that had absolutely nothing to do with Eric being hired, or being given half of the company in that will, no, nothing at all." She rolled her eyes; her fingers flipped back a few pages, then forward, then back again. "Our poor father. So much debt...I knew he'd made a lot of sacrifices for us, but this is something else entirely. How did I not know all this until now?" Her eyes scanned faster. "These accounts go back to the 1940's...back to the founding CEO of World Studios, which...oh, wow. Which was Daniel's father, John Raymond."

"Eric's granddad, yeah. Huge narcissistic jerk, too," I said, feeling sour. "Eric learned from the best. This guy ran his empire like he was untouchable, treated everyone under him like minions, probably his son and grandson most of all. Evaded his taxes, screwed around on his wife left and right, and was really good at keeping all of it under wraps, even after Howard Sands' father acquired the company once the tax thing blew up. Anyway, one of the officers down at the station even told me that his father was a security guard for World during the early forties, and he...well, he saw some really crazy stuff."

That caught Jerrica's attention. Suddenly her posture was absurdly rigid and perfect. "Oh? Like what?"

And before I could lose my courage I blurted: "That officer's grandfather told him once that he'd found a girl in labor locked in this shed towards the back of the studio's lot. Told him he could tell she was dying when he got a look at her. She said her name was Marianne, that she'd been 'working for' Raymond, and before she died she told him she wanted to name the baby, uh, Jacqui. After that famous forties actress Jacqui Andrews, you know? And it wasn't the kind of thing someone ever forgot."

Kimber's jaw fell open. Jerrica simply withered into her chair.

"Stormer, can you be sure of this? It's - it's only a personal account and it could be an exaggeration, that man could be _lying_ - "

I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and reached across the desk to show her the last packet from the folder. Jerrica's eyes widened as she read aloud. "From a U.S. Children's Bureau agent...doesn't even say the agent's name. It's addressed to John." She paused, reading further:

'Mr. Raymond,

You will be pleased to know that this matter has been resolved. We do regret to inform you that "M" did not survive, though the child did. She was brought immediately to Cedars and given a clean bill of health; the child is now a ward of the state of California. For your convenience we have provided all the documentation for your records. Discretion has been our highest priority in this matter; we thank you again for your kind donation.'"

Jerrica looked up. "How vile! He bribed his way out of his own mess!"

"Sis?" interrupted Kimber warily, "correct me if I'm crazy, but didn't Mom once say her mother's name was, uh, Mary Ann or something?"

Quietly I took the folder from Jerrica's shaky hands and pored through its contents until I found the certificate and the many yellowed placement forms. I handed one piece of proof to Jerrica and the others to Kimber, who went ashen white as she read the first form.

"Ohmigod," she said, flipping back and forth through the papers. "Ohmigod, Jerrica, these are all Mom's. They're the forms from all her foster homes, and her name certificate. He was keeping track of her, look!"

"And this is Marianne's death certificate." Jerrica groaned softly. "It just says 'Jane Doe'...but it also says she was about sixteen, had blue eyes and blond hair. The cause of death was childbirth complications. That she died in World Studios around midnight on - oh, God."

"On Mom's birthday!" Kimber finished for her in an awed whisper. "Ohmi_god_, Jerrica, Marianne really _was_ our grandmother!" Her wide eyes darted towards the blonde, who held her head in her hands.

"And we, dear sister, seem to be Eric Raymond's only living blood relatives," Jerrica declared miserably. "His first cousins."

"Oh, God, disgusting!" Kimber shrank back against the window. "And you had that thing for him when Daddy hired him to Starlight Music...and then he...!"

My stomach totally dropped at that look on Jerrica's face. "Yeah," I rushed on, "So since there is a blood relation, the lawyers said you have the option to be co-executrices along with all us Misfits and to choose to claim a sliver of Eric's estate, which is mostly just more responsibilities and not money. But seriously, it's just like, formality, I mean, you don't have to, I mean..."

"Good Lord, Stormer, do people already _know_ about this?!"

"What? No!" I lied, staring Jerrica right in the eye. I was so going to Hell when I died. "Oh, no, no, no. No, Mr. Gabor's lawyers do cause they're the ones that did most of the research once the cops couldn't find any family, but this is confidential information. I only know because, y'know, the executrice thing and all. I mean we - Clash and Jetta and Roxy and me - were goin' through all the files, yeah, but..." I swallowed hard. "But I'm the one who found this. And I just thought that...that you should find out from a friend and - and not from anyone else."

"Well, we appreciate it, Mar," Kimber said softly after a long, long pause. "Really."

"Yes, we do," added a ghost-pale Jerrica, who appeared to be just on the verge of losing every lunch she'd ever eaten. I swallowed my anxiety, tried to think about the tropical paradise that waited for me once this was done, and met Jerrica's eyes. Her sunken, haunted eyes. I'd have been lying if I said I wasn't worried about up and leaving her alone with this knowledge and the memories.

"I'm guessing you don't want to have any part of this."

"You'd be guessing correctly," Jerrica told me flat out. I nodded.

"Yeah. There's not much to it anymore that Harvey - that Mr. Gabor's law team hasn't already seen to." I stole a glance at my Rolex; my time here was up. "Look, I'm really sorry and all, but I'm afraid I gotta go." I stood to emphasize this and reached to embrace Kimber. "I got a plane to catch."

"It's okay, Mar," she said in my ear, "you do what you gotta do."

"Thanks, Kim. I'll, uh, you know, I'll be in touch, we'll get the album out and stuff," I stammered, and broke free to turn away.

"Stormer? Wait."

I paused and turned to Jerrica, who was advancing on me with actual tears in her eyes. That startled the hell out of me, but not as much as her sudden embrace did! I gaped at Kimber over the blonde's shoulder; all she did was shrug at me. Some help she was.

"Thank you," was all Jerrica was capable of saying in English anymore, apparently, cause she kept saying it over and over again. Least, that was all I could make out through all those choked-on tears. I did what I could and gingerly patted her on the back.

"You could probably call me Mary now," I offered, and God help us all, the woman actually laughed. She really, truly did, and then Kimber did too, and all I could think was _here we come, Pizzazz, all three of us, save us all a straitjacket!_ But Jerrica Benton backed away then and brushed the tears from her eyes, smiling; some of the color was returning to her face. I decided it was not so much a total loss of sanity than an invitation to smile back.

"And I will," she told me. "That's a promise."

Wow. I didn't think I'd ever seen anyone bounce from one emotional extreme to another so seamlessly, except for maybe Pizzazz. "It's...it's just freeing to hear the truth, all of it. You are a true friend to us and you just keep proving it." Her smile could have blinded me. "Please don't ever forget that."

"Yeah, okay." I felt my smile go a little crooked from all this unabashed friendship-and-good-will stuff, and reached backwards for the doorknob. "I won't. And, uh, you're welcome...and stuff."

I was out that door so fast I outran the first sounds of Kimber's tears joining Jerrica's. I didn't even look behind me to see the rattled look on Joanie's face as she stood to see what was going on; I just pushed my way into the empty elevator and jabbed at the button as the doors slowly, slowly closed off my view. And thank God, cause when they did, I damn near cried myself.

But I didn't. I stood still as the lift descended, stepped out coolly into the parking garage when it stopped, slid into the safety of my car.

"I did the right thing," I said to the rear view mirror. "I did the_right_ thing."

I kept telling myself this all the way to LAX. I figured if you lied to yourself enough, you'd start believing it eventually. What a great way to start off the new year.

_**TBC**_


End file.
